Ice Mask
by Crushing Daisy
Summary: After nineteen years of blissful ignorance, Allory Dalton unexpectedly unlocks a part of herself she would much rather have kept hidden. She is thrust into the world of the paranormal as she battles herself and those out to harm her with only one objective: To save her brother from the same fate or end up killing him herself.
1. Preface

Ice Mask

Preface

Hiding in the back of my mind there drifts the never ending onslaught of words. They get louder and more persistent and I suddenly feel the ties of my resolve loosen. Giving in is after all so much easier then holding on to something that seems impossible.

How do you continue when your own mind seems like your worst enemy? Always throwing words in your face; _weakling, coward, spineless._

Like mist, the words swirl around in my head, always there, trapped between the walls of my mind. I have now become my own worst enemy. People fade away around you until all that's left is empty memories. Painfully happy moments burned into your mind.

A gift people carelessly throw around at each other never bothering to think twice. Trust. How can you give it to someone knowing they will use it against you? Trust only deserves to be given to yourself. Then there's the fact that I have to stare at myself in the mirror every day, wondering if I can even trust myself.


	2. Chapter 1: Taken

Chapter 1: Taken

The sound of murmuring voices woke me up from my sleep. I tried peeling back my eyelids, unsuccessfully, so I could register the low humming that seemed to be coming from down the hall, which led from my bedroom. Eventually, I seemed to have mustered up enough brainpower to know that I needed to open my eyes. As I lazily did so, I was aware of the low mumbling voices that were quietly speaking from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

Groaning inaudibly, I managed to untangle the bed sheets from my seemingly uncooperative feet and cast a glance at the glaring digits that flickered over the face of the alarm clock.

03:47 a.m.

Repressing another groan, I shuffled out of my room to confront whoever woke me up. Still half asleep, I covered my mouth when a yawn overtook me, moisture spring up in my burning eyes. Rubbing the heel of my hand to my right eye, I passed the different rooms down the hall, but the sight of my brother's room on my left however made me hover.

Poking my head around the door, I saw my little brother curled up under the bright red and blue covers that lay neatly over the bed. My covers weren't nearly as neat when I slept in my bed, I noticed frowning. But then again I had the tendency to toss and turn a lot while I slept.

Shrugging it off, I crept silently over the carpeted floors, deeper into his room, until I was standing next to his bed.

His soft, almost white blonde hair was ruffled and his bright green eyes closed. His head was turned to the side, his plump little lips parted and he was breathing deeply in and out. It hard to imagine that the small boy curled up in sheets, was turning ten, when he barely even looked like a seven year old; though he certainly made up for his lack in growth with his perplexing intelligence and maturity. Even with the massive age gap, which was almost nine years, he and I got along fairly well.

I moved forward to lightly brush his soft blonde hair from his face and stared affectionately down at him, completely forgetting the cause for my getting out of bed. Crouching down, I picked up his blue teddy bear that lay beside his bed and brushed my fingers over the soft material of the stomach. Written in a permanent black marker, just below the stomach stood the words that marked the bear as property of my brother; Ivan Dalton.

Placing the bear on the covers, next to him, I silently crept back out into the hallway.

My dads insufferable snoring drew my attention to my parents' room and as I walked by I cast a fleeting glance into their bedroom, and then did a double take.

The two lumps that lay under the covers, assured me that my parents were indeed fast asleep and undisturbed by the noise that produced from the kitchen. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I scrambled for an explanation. If Ivan was in his room, and they were in bed…

Then who was in the kitchen?

Panic escalated from the pit of my stomach and formed a tight knot in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. Slinking along the hallway, my feet kept moving without my consent. As I progressed closer to the kitchen it became evident that the murmuring was a result of two people arguing quietly.

Moving stealthily along hallway wall I drew closer to the kitchen entrance, stopping just outside the door that led in, I carefully peeked in through the slip that lay between the door and its hinges. My gaze dropped onto the two men standing in front of our open fridge, grabbing everything their glove-covered fingers touched and stuffing it into a bag. Both men were dressed forbiddingly, contrasting tremendously against our bright kitchen. The man standing off to the left was holding up the bag. Glancing at him, he reminded me of a plum; short and round, with a glimmering bald head. The other one; tall and lanky was filling the bag with food. He had his hood pulled over his head, and the fat man, as if realizing this himself tugged up his own hood.

Trying to be as quiet as possible I backed up slowly, aiming for my parents' room so I could alert them of the burglars. My heart was pounding loudly against my chest, and every movement I made seemed like it was ten times louder than it actually was. I had just passed the living room, when a hand emerged from the dark room and clamped over my mouth to stifle the shriek that escaped. There were three of them? From the thick, muscular and hairy arm that came around my neck and the large body I was pulled up against I could tell it was a man. For seconds I was paralyzed with terror. Then like a switch being flipped, I started thrashing wildly around the man's hold; kicking and punching wherever I possibly could. Grunting, his arms constricted, pulling me closer to his body. The arm around my throat was cutting of my air supply, and rapidly the panic flooded through my limbs, freezing my thrashing movements. He loosened his arm around my throat just enough so I could breathe again. The black spots which had started clouding my vision cleared, leaving me lightheaded and feeling oddly weak. Then I felt his warm breath on my ear and automatically I squirmed in his hold, wanting to get as far away from him as I possibly could.

"Stop moving and be quiet or I _will_ kill you," he threatened in a deep, deadly voice. The rumble from his deep voice echoed through my body and I froze. My blood ran cold and goose bumps formed all over my arms. I was almost sure my parents could hear his booming voice from their room, but after staring expectantly at the door of my parents' bedroom for a long moment I was certain my dad wasn't going to barge out of the room with a loaded rifle.

Terror heaved up from inside me and I franticly looked around in the hallway for something to use as a weapon. With my rapid breathing slamming across the man's hands and my eyes stretched with panic, I could only imagine how this was going to end. My eyes landed on the hallway cabinet which I knew contained an envelope opener somewhere in there. Though I knew there was an improbable chance of me reaching it, while captured in the man's hold.

Apprehensive about the scuffle they had most likely taken notice of, the two men silently emerged from the kitchen, the lanky man now clutching the bag in which they stuffed the food. Slightly startled by my presence they froze and the fat man was the first to recover, questioningly nodding his head in my direction. Inevitably, a list of possible deaths ran through my head; sliced throat, bullet in the head, multiple stab wounds in the gut…

A small, almost whimpering sound escaped my lips followed by three pairs of eyes landing on my form. I could feel their gazes confirming something, as if my small verbal plead had just made the decision for me. I locked my panicked emerald gaze with the lanky man, trying to decipher the conclusion they had silently agreed on. But the shadows their hoods threw over their faces, made it impossible to even identify features. Seeming suddenly anxious, the two men silently hurried back into the kitchen, flipping the light switch in their passing and leaving me with no sense of direction in the darkness.

The man holding me soon followed suit of the two departing men, dragging my stiff and restraining figure along with him. My lungs seemed to find their function once more and my muffled scream lasted a full second before the man hastily pinched my nose and pressed his palm more firmly to my mouth. Successfully cutting off all my air supply and effectively halting my scream.

Halfway through the eerie kitchen I could see the car parked and running through the kitchen backdoor, with the moonlight illuminating the old, red Ford Laser in which the two men were already waiting. Adrenaline surged with a sudden spike and my limbs thrashed around, stupidly exhausting my small supply of oxygen. I stubbornly refused to paralyze my movements, knowing it would lead to my probable death. Rapidly growing impatient he hauled through the kitchen door, stomping over to the car and throwing me through the open door of the backseat. My lungs were gasping for air, as I drew in fresh gulps of the constricting smelling air. The lanky man was in the front, beside the driver's seat and the plump man was already waiting in the backseat, a piece of ragged cloth clutched in his palm. I was smart enough to know what the cloth was for and in my desperate attempt at escaping managed to just miss his grubby hand aiming for my airways. The door slammed and the slightly muted clicking of locks entrapped me in the car.

Reaching forward to grab me, he smashed the cloth with chloroform over my nose and mouth. I dared not inhale in the slightest and rammed my elbow into his rib cage and had the slight relieve of hearing him gasp and removing his hands and arms to cradle his chest. Using the distraction I yanked at the locks, but they seemed to have to be automatically opened, so I tried my luck at rolling down the window.

The grunting man breathlessly muttered something along the lines of a whimper before I felt his hands weaving into my hair and harshly yanking it back. I unleashed a string of screams, aware that the car was now hastily moving away from my house. My panic suddenly switched to fear as the cloth pressed over my airways and before I could stop myself, I was inhaling.

"Sleep tight, bitch," the fat man chuckled and I glanced back, through the window, longingly to my home which was now completely dark, before I slowly floated into black oblivion.


	3. Chapter 2: Glass Wall

_**Old post**_

**Hey guys, thanks to all those who reviewed (jamesstarkgirlfriend and vampfan3oh3, haha) and read my story, I feel so happy, but since I didn't get to many reviews I am updating way sooner.**

**NEW POST**

**AH well before you guys murder me… or throw toilet paper at your computer screen.. I would just like to say sorry for not giving you guys a warning first… but I decided to edit Ice Mask.**

**Only the first 10 or so chapters and a few tweaking on the later ones.**

**But also… I'm busy with a new story… since it's not vampire related (still a supernatural story though) I have to post it on FictionPress. **

**My Pen name renames the same on my Fictionpress account… and I am posting Ice Mask up there as well. **

**Bare with me… for I am trying to edit faster, but when I don't have inspiration I'm about as useless as a stick…**

**Please do tell me what you think of the new and improved chapters!**

Chapter 2: Glass wall

When I finally regained consciousness, I was aware of my shoulders and arms screaming in pain. Aware of the intense throbbing that tore through my head, I squinted my sleep crusted eyes, and noticed that my bare feet were dangling inches from the ground. I could point my toes and they would lightly graze the cemented floor.

Confused, I rotated my neck upwards to notice that around my wrists were ice cold cuffs, attached to chains that led up to the concrete roof of the room I was currently being contained by. All my body weight was hanging from my unfortunate arms and shoulders. Experimentally I lightly flexed my right wrist, only to have an agonizingly sharp pain shoot straight through my arm, so I gently let it hang from my strangely numb arms. A frown creased my brows as I tried to make sense of where I was. The room I was currently placed in consisted of three solid looking walls, with the exception of the fourth "wall", which was in reality actually a large glass window. Carefully examining it, I noticed the small ventilation holes that covered the smooth surface.

My head spun with disorientation, pitching and churning in all directions as I tried to recall where I was, but my mind almost stubbornly refused to supply me with memory. A low groan grumbled from the back of my throat and my vision blurred around the edges. Unconsciously I let my head dropped, hanging it miserably from the straining shoulder muscles. I felt too tired too remember anything and with my mind in half a comatose state, the images barely registered until a deep voice pierced through my memories.

My head snapped up, but I ignored the complaining ache of my body as I slowly recalled pieces of what had occurred the previous night. The men were dragging me through my house and throwing me into their car, and then the chloroform covered cloth they had pressed over my airways. It would explain the revenge seeking headache that raged through my mind. For minutes I was paralyzed into a shocked state of mind, where I continued to stare blankly ahead of me. Amongst all the anger and confusion my attention was caught by a slight movement and my eyes squinted to make out what I was actually looking at.

Opposite to me there was a room similar to mine with the window wall facing me and inside there hanged from chains a bloodied body that still slightly resembled the form of a naked girl. She was hanging completely limp, but from the rapid rise and fall of her chest I was relieved to see she was still alive. Barely. Covering almost every inch of her body, there were deep cuts and slashes. Some looked at least a few days old and others still had blood gushing from them. Blue and purple bruises camouflaged her entire body and with the exception of her tattered underwear, she was completely naked. Her raven black hair fell around her face, wet with blood and sweat. A thick layer of shock covered my hazy brain as I continued to stare in shock at the horrific scene in front of me. My shock was soon replaced with horror when a low groan slowly dragged my gaze from the one girl to another in the next room. As far as I could stretch I could see more rooms containing with girls in the same state. All the rooms seemed to be similar, with three concrete and one glass wall.

Some didn't even have the exception of underwear to cover up anything; they just hung limply from the ceiling. If it weren't for the reassuring movement of their breathing I would have surely thought they were dead. The horror barely registered through the shock that currently blocked all my thoughts. Someone was gasping, breathes ripping through the quiet mummer of silence. Oh, that's me. Of their own will, my eyes shot from one cell to the next, my mind drinking up the broken bodies that hung like ornaments.

There was a small part of me that shriveled up and coiled in a corner at the sight. It took moments for me to realize that I'd stopped breathing, the pain in my chest informing me that I needed to inhale. And as I did, the thick taste of death stained my tongue. The girls still were very much alive, even if they didn't look to be.

I looked down on myself and was relieved to find that I still had my short, blue pajama pants and my white t-shirt dressed. The relief was bitter, knowing that I was still clothed while the other females have been robbed of the privacy of their clothes. Was this what they were going to make of me? A scarcely functioning body and violated innocence. Over the weight that settled in my heart, the pain in my shoulders was starting to ride over into agony.

Unexpectedly an abrupt rage bloomed in my chest forming a tightening in my lungs and knotting my throat. The sight of the beaten girls was enough to motivate me into yanking desperately at the chains. Strips of agony sprouted from my wrists and traveled an electrocuting path down my arms. Minutes of furious wrenching at the bolts in the roof passed, but without success. The frustrating chains wouldn't dislodge.

Searching the room, I looked out for anything that might have been useful, but the entire room was empty. With the exception of a light bulb that hung suspended from a string in the roof, the room was bare. If I could find something hard enough then maybe I could-

Without warning I heard the lock of a door being picked and my body twisted to take in a large, heavy door swinging open, cleverly concealed to appear as though it were part of the concrete wall. The dark outline of a man blocked most of the light from beyond the thick door, his frame taking up the whole entrance. The lone light bulb flickered to life and over the erratic beating of my heart I heard the thick slab shutting closed. The man was now in the room with me.

With the light illuminating him, I could clearly identify his rough features. The sudden brightness of the room blinded me and I had to squint so I could quickly scan over his body. The man was extremely tall and bulky. Carrying all that body mass looked almost painful, but moved to take in the man's dark blonde hair, moving down to his grim features and plain squinty brown eyes. Instantly I decided to take a disliking towards him, plainly because he looked… criminal. And considering the obvious, which was that he obviously wasn't going to help me, he was probably playing a large part in this whole situation.

The man was staring. His eyes roaming over the uncomfortable position I was placed in. His expression remaining neutral I decided that he must be in his late thirties, judging by the lines of anger and worry that creased his face. My eyes narrowed into emerald slits, glaring at him with as much hatred I could gather. It wasn't hard.

His expression cracked and a hint of amusement and familiarity flitted across his face. When he moved my body bulked as though preparing for a strike, but he steadily continued to move around me, inspecting me from all angles. I didn't like not being able to keep my gaze on him and tried to twist in the chains so as to keep him in my line of sight. All the while his eyes traveled up and down my body making a shiver of disgust travel up my spine and smiled broadly at my discomfort. Annoyance crept up at having to twist and turn so much, but I tried to endure it for as long as I could. Involuntarily a small huff of impatience and aggravation escaped from my lips.

My mom had always warned me about my temper which had the tendency of getting to me too quickly. I was sure that it was a trait that I had inherited from my father, him not being the most patient person to ever live. Taking into consideration the circumstances; being kidnapped, drugged and chained I figured that I had the right to being royally pissed off and aggravated.

The man stopped in front of me and his smile widened.

"Impatient?" he teased while taking a step forward. The instant his voice penetrated my ears, my body froze and my mind pitched. That voice, it was the voice of the man that had captured me in the hall. Eyes wide as pitchers I stared at him with my mouth hanging slightly agape. I could still remember the cold metal of the knife pressing up against my throat as he dragged me to the waiting car. The man acknowledged the recognition in my gaze with a small smirk.

An outraged and strangely strangled sound erupted from my throat and my arms strained, ready claws to tear at his face. With teeth bared and body thrashing the man stilled me with a slap in the face. My head snapped to the side and my cheek was set afire with a slow burning sting. I was suddenly aware of the very vulnerable position I was in. He was in an arrangement to do anything he wanted with me and all I would be able to d was scream. How pathetic.

Taking a step forward he pressed up against my hanging body, his warm breath washed over my face and recoiled from horrid smell. Then gathering my courage I pressed forward glaring at his neutral expression and my lip involuntarily curled back from my teeth.

"I see you remember me. Just remember who's in charge here," he sneered at me before it turned into the creepy smile again. Lifting his hand, he lightly stroked the burning skin on my cheek. The skin crawled where his filthy fingers touched and another spike of anger tensed my body.

"Besides, I wouldn't want to scar such a pretty little face," He cooed lightly, before laughing and grabbing my jaw roughly to twist it to the side. My anger was fueled by the slight pain that sprung up from my jaw and when he let go to lightly trace a finger down my cheek I acted out. The sharp movement of my head snapping to the side startled him but didn't give him enough time to yank his hand away and my teeth clamped around his fingers. His reaction was instant and he ripped his bleeding hand from between the vice of my teeth. I spit the taste of his hand out and onto the floor, surprised at how quickly he had placed a decent distance between us.

"Keep your hands to yourself," I snarled at him, the hard edge of my voice echoed around the empty room. The man shook his hand trying to rid himself of the sting I assumed. The anger that boiled under my skin prevented me from reacting to his murderous expression with answering fear. Stalking up to me, he grabbed me by the neck, leaning in to spit his next words in my face. Suspicion prickled as he suddenly leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Careful princess, bed bugs tend to come out at the least expected moments," he pulled back and smirked at my startled expression, marred by slight fear. He turned to the door and unlocked it somehow and threw a chuckle over his shoulder.

"Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite," he smirked before exiting and shutting the door loudly, the lock turning filled the silence of the tense atmosphere. I turned my body to the front again.

Bowing my head I silently prayed that tomorrow would never come and even though my arms and shoulders felt like they were being ripped apart I quickly fell into a deep slumber escaping from my real life nightmare into a dark world of monsters behind closed lids.


	4. Chapter 3: Scream

**Hi guys! I know, I know... It's been forever! But it's not that I'm lazy, just finding time to eat and sleep is proving to be difficult with school.**

** The department of education decided that school is apparently not difficult enough, and now we have a new year program where they pile all the work humanely possible into one program. Our grade will now be guinea pigs to test if we would be able to survive this new program. But enough rambling! **

**I have decided that school can respectively go screw itself. Therefore I am going to continue with Ice Mask. BUT, you guys will have to be patient with the chapters, as I write only for about two hours before school and sport worm its way into my conscience.**

**I realized how selfish it was of me to just stop writing without any notice, so, viola here is another edited chapter. Keep in mind, I'm reconstructing the story not only editing. So you guys will encounter new scenes and new chapters. **

**Thank you for those you encouraged me to start again via PM, you really made me push through.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 3: Scream

Screaming. Torturous, heart wrenching, ear splitting screams. They tore through the steady haze that covered my mind and scattered my thoughts into frenzy. My eyes snapped open, and I could sense my body instinctively struggling to comprehend the instantaneous panic that swelled.

It was the blonde girl in the room across from mine. She was twisting and wrenching in her chains, arching her back. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, unlike the previous day, though her arms were still suspended above her head. At first I could not comprehend what she was trying to do; writhing in the chains, but then a shifting in the back of her room caught my attention.

Straining my eyes to focus on the figure that loomed in the rear of the room, I could make out a familiar plump shape of a man. I racked my brain and I found his shape very similar to that of the fat man that was in my kitchen. It was him. My reaction was similar to that of my first meeting with my capturer of the previous day. The rage was bitter and heating as it boiled up from the pit of my stomach.

There was something long, thin and limp in his left hand: a whip. In a mix of horror, shock and rage, I watched as he hauled back the torturous apparatus and swung his arm down onto the girl's exposed back. The slapping sound of the braided leather slicing open the sensitive flesh reverberated in my mind. My jaw slackened and for seconds I could only silently endure the sounds of her suffering screeches.

Then like a sudden elastic snapping back in place, _I_ was the one jerking around, rampant yells of outrage ripped from my throat.

"_What are you doing?_" My screech bordered on desperation as I was forced to witness the torture being afflicted upon the helpless girl. Begging and limp, she resembled a heap of bones, the only thing holding her upright were the chains she was yet bound by.

The man, if he deserved to be called human, was yelling incompetent words at her. A mix of scorn and displeasure laced his crude, snapping, hollering as he continued to beat her with ferocious brutality.

Amid the disturbance I could feel the adrenaline readily pumping throughout my limbs. Another scream ripped through the dense atmosphere, rising goose-bumps from my skin and stopping my heart for a chilling moment. The unadulterated agony that rang through that single scream conveyed all the pain and suffering a single human being could possibly contain. Harsh shudders ran up and down my skin and the aching of my shoulders and arms departed as result of the epinephrine. Involuntarily I wrenched at the chains and was surprised to hear the slight creaking groan of the metal. Inspecting the large bolts that were drilled into the solid, concrete roof, I experimentally yanked on the left chain and was more than surprised to see it repositioning , if only slightly. Though my arms were rigid, I tried channeling all my remaining strength into wrenching on the chain, until slowly it revealed more of the rivet.

The bolt on the left set of chains was on the edge of being completely exposed, but another screech ripped at my ears and focused my attention on the girl. The man was now standing in front of the shaking girl, roughly grabbing onto her jaw and while hissing scorn he paused to spit in her face. I unconsciously jerked at the chain, the resisting pressure disappeared and I looked up in time to see the square metal patch, bolt still inserted in it, sailing towards me. The sharp edge of the metal square grated down my left cheek. There was a slight pause before the sting erupted across my face and a slow throb pounded through my whole face, increasing as the pain in my cheek registered.

Wincing, I tried my chance on the right set of chains. I could feel the heated blood seeping from the wound, dripping down my neck and percolating into my shirt. The panic was instigating a constricting sensation in my chest, and desperate, I yanked harder until the chains were giving way. I ducked my head to avoid another injury as the right set of chains burst from the roof and tumbled down onto me. My feet hit the floor, locking at my knees before they quavered and gave in beneath my weight. With useless arms, I could barely lift my head in time to watch the man disappear into the shadows, leaving a sobbing girl behind. I noticed that she was once again hauled into the air, like some sick sacrifice.

Shadows were cast over the display of bones that were prominent throughout the lines of her body. Accompanied by slashes and streams of blood, the sight was both gruesome and disconcerting. Her hollow-shaped stomach clenched and rolled as she dry heaved, her body trying to bring up the evidently non-existing food. Instinctively I tried to move closer, using my arms to thrust my upper body off the ground, but when an unexpected sting traveled up from my wrists to my shoulders, I sagged back to the floor with a groan. The girl's wrenching ceased for a moment and all was silent apart from her loud breathing.

"Shouldn't have done… that…" Another groan and series of dry heaves accompanied her statement. My head slowly turned to the right only to realize the reprimand had been aimed at me. Confused, I only continued to watch her heave with silent, guarded eyes. She didn't seem to take notice of my gaze, but was rather focusing on her own discomfort, as she should. I tried to clear my throat discreetly but flinched when the sound reverberated loudly throughout the room. There was the deafening dribble of blood drenching the concrete floor. Slowly, and exceedingly excruciating, I crawled over to the large glass wall in order to be closer to the now sobbing girl.

The scuffling effort of my creep managed to gain her attention, and her tear filled gaze was filled with an old reminder of horror as she watched my attempt with a mix of pity and sympathy. At the sight of her pitying gaze, a small presence in the back of my head snarled with discontentment, despising the labeling weakness. Gritting my teeth I placed more effort and speed into my approach, collapsing in a heap at the feet of the glass wall.

"What's…that…supposed…to mean?" My gasping breaths were the result of my tremendous effort at crawling with a much hastier pace, in order to replace some of my vanished dignity. I had tried to force oxygen into my lungs without alerting my immediate surrounding location, but quite obviously failed in doing so.

"Shouldn't have done that," she repeated, her eyes lost focus as she stared out in front of her. A scream echoed from one of the other rooms, but I was not able to see from which one. Bewildered, the girl only continued to stare and then slowly started to shake her head. Her limp, lifeless blonde hair flew around as she started shaking it with more vigor, until she was wrenching and yanking at the chains again. Her screams echoed that of the other girl's as she flew into a frenzy of panic. I waited for her panicked attack to ebb away, before I carefully tried to speak with her again; cautious of what might set her off.

"What's your name?" I spoke softly, trying to place as much gentleness as I possibly could into my voice, so as not to startle her. Her head snapped up in surprise and her lips parted in shock. Frowning, I tried to think of ways the sentence could have been interpreted to offend her, but found none other than the innocent question.

After long moments of silence she muttered something under her breath and the echo of the room brought the soft mumble to my ears.

"Shyana."

My smile was what I would have liked to call gentle and slight, but judging by the effect it seemed I might as well have bared my teeth and snarled; she flinched away from it and turned her head askew. Startled by her fright I wondered what it would take for a girl like her to ever be smiling and happy again, it seemed impossible.

"Shyana?" I paused to see if she would look at me. She didn't. "I won't hurt you, I promise," I continued softly, waiting for a reaction. Her head inched slightly back in my direction, and taking that as a good sign I continued hastily.

"You-"

"They'll hurt you."

Momentarily stunned, her curt words interrupted my thoughts and my eyes widened as they registered. A cold dread crept over my skin and my limbs rapidly turned to lead, weighing me down and trapping me on the cold concrete floor.

"They'll…hurt…?" My numb lips echoed the words stupidly and a high pitched ringing slowly started in my ears. All thoughts of comforting the girl so to say flew out the window, if there were any in this prison, and the space constricted in on me, making me feel small and helpless. The girl finally turned to look at me, and as if satisfied with my reaction she nodded her head, her saddened gaze knotting the lump in my throat.

My lips parted as I tried to form words, but a dry croak was all I managed and I decided it was best to stay silent and take time to absorb the information. But the reality of the situation was finally dawning on me. Shouldn't I have expected this? It wasn't like I should have thought they would treat me any different than they do the other girls here. Then abruptly, I steeled myself and swore to not give it much thought so as not to lose my nerve and scare myself into a little helpless ball-of-pathetic.

"I'm not taking it sitting down," I was pleased to hear my voice with its restored dignity and characteristic perseverance. A small flash of recognition flashed in her pale eyes but was soon crushed with regret.

"That's…worst… thing…can do," her voice was growing weak and she struggled to pronounce the words, but I caught the drift of the sentence but remained quiet, seeing as it was taking much of her energy to speak, and she needed rest. The old familiar ring in the words made me think that she might have tried once to defend herself, now she just seemed to be waiting for the mercy of death. As her breathing slowed and deepened, I hoped that she would make it through one more night.

She was, not to sound selfish but, going to serve as my source of information, as she seemed to be the only one fit to speak. But this would benefit all of them, hopefully, if I wished to ever try and get out, which I will have to, I could report to the police about the rest of the girls. They would all be safe. That is to say if it wasn't too late.

I glanced up at Shyana and was relieved find that her body had released all its tension as it had given into the merciful folds of slumber, and hopefully not a coma. My head fell back against the glass wall and I winced at the stiffness of the tendons and muscles. In a way the sore muscles brought a familiar comfort; it being very similar to that after a day of good exercise with Coach. My heart ached at the taken privilege of freedom, to never run or see my family again. What are they doing now? By now they would have filed a missing person's report. What are they telling Ivan?

_"Allory, would you go and put Ivan in bed, he won't listen to me," my mother's exhausted voice echoed from the kitchen entrance and I glanced up from my half eaten ham-and-cheese sandwich to find her still in her work suit, her hear ruffled and falling from its containments._

_"Sure," I replied, it wasn't a surprise. Every now and then Ivan would rebel against either my mom or my dad; simply because he viewed their parenting as 'treating him like a baby' and when they were too tired to deal with him I'd have to step in._

_Moving to the sitting room, I found him in front of the television, a frown marring his smooth forehead and his arms crossed in the classical pose of 'I'm not moving'. At least he didn't have a pout._

_"Hey Ivan, you wanna help me pack my schoolbag?" I asked casually, leaning on the doorframe of the entrance to the sitting room. I knew he normally enjoyed helping me; it made him feel like he wasn't in third grade, but rather mature enough so I could trust him with my oh-so-valuable algebra books._

_"No," he replied firmly, the stubborn edge entering his voice._

_I made a show of sighing loudly and slumping my shoulders, lowering my head as if disappointed and slowly turned in the doorway. I could feel his hesitation and guilt from across the room. One thing about Ivan was that he never enjoyed seeing me distressed, especially if he was the cause. A soft padding confirmed my suspicions and his small hand grabbed mine and pulled me up the stairs to my room, like he was acting as a parent. The soft touch was his way of apologizing, as he never really did so verbally, something we both inherited from our father._

_We packed my books and he even helped sorting out some biology papers. After that it was easy to convince him to go to bed when I said that I'd be getting into bed as well._

_"Ally?" Ivan's soft voice called from where he was curled up in his bed._

_"Yeah?" I called out softly into the dark room from the doorway. There was a pause where he seemed uncomfortable and even guilty._

_"Tell mom that I'm sorry," there was a rustling as he settled back into the covers and a loud sigh escaped from his chest. I smiled into the room, touched as well as impressed by his consideration and maturity._

_"I will," I whispered into the room._

The memory hit home hard, and crippled me even as I sat. That was about two years ago and one of those unexpected remembrances that stuck in my brain unknowingly. The breath was knocked clear from my lungs and I grabbed at the spot over my heart, where the piercing pain was originating from. What was I thinking? Trying to escape? That was just about one of the most unrealistic, foolish and not even to mention the most dangerous ideas I've ever sported. The dull ache ebbed away as I inspected the red, nasty looking welts around my wrist, and followed a line up my arm where there were patches of blue and yellow bruises. Whenever I even thought of lifting my arms, my shoulders were already screaming in pain. My legs were fine for the most part, if you didn't add up the countless bruises and scratches.

Getting to my feet proved to be a difficult task, but with the support of the transparent wall I managed to stumble to my shaky legs. The chains that enclosed my wrists and spilled down to the floor were not helping my cause and aches sprouted down to the muscle and bone of my arms, particularly when they brushed gruffly over the welts. Pacing agitatedly along the walls, my thoughts travelled towards the direction of the men that had captured me.

Considering my limited knowledge of them, a grimace colored my flat expression. Information was valuable, now more than ever. There were three men that I was aware of encountering; the man with the scarred face, the fat swine who had been beating Shyana earlier on and a strangely silent, lanky man. With their motives as unpronounced as it was, I couldn't be completely sure what level of danger I was on. The circular structure in which the rooms were placed forbids me from calculating the sure number of girls that were here with me, but my guess was a rough estimate of about fifteen. Maybe even twenty?

My study of the rooms proved that every single one of the housings were accurately similar and that conditions of their occupants ranged from severe to much less alarming. The floor-solid concrete- was greased with grime and dirt and the blood formed rusty stains that seemed to be etched into the floor. In the center of the circular structure there was a squared trap door, constructed of thick wood and adorned with a heavy looking brass handle.

I glanced down at the chains that hung to the floor. Considering that I was no longer suspended from the roof, and the chains could act as a sort of weapon; maybe I could try and escape. The only hiccup that lay between me and freedom was a concrete door and some men. Some really cruel, big men. A knot formed at the base of my throat, clotting my breathing and serving as a wedge that prevented my head from sagging in despair.

Would I really be capable of escaping? Even on the off chance that I did, another question served as a mental block: Could I really leave all these other women behind?_ You could always report to the police, they would take care of it._ The reassuring dribble of words did little to quench the crushing guilt that coiled around my chest. Maybe some money-

My thoughts were abruptly scored as the creaking of the concrete door reached my ears. Momentarily stunned, my muscles clenched up and locked in place. A string of curses strung through my mind as I considered my options. Springing into action I silently, as quietly as I could with the rattling chains, moved to stand in space where the door would be swinging open to.

A strip of light pierced the dark room, gradually eating up the dark space to reveal the seemingly empty room. Lurking behind the door I could unmistakably hear the soft gasp of surprise that sounded from the man's mouth. Heavy steps echoed to the middle of the room and I could make out the form of the scarred man from my hiding place. I tried to ignore the sharp sting of disappointment and doubt that gnawed at my thoughts. I was fervently hoping it would be the fat man that would enter my chamber, as he would have been so much easier to outrun. Deciding to act quickly, I dodged out from behind the door, the rattling of the chains made him spin on his heels and reach for me. I sidestepped his grip and darted from the room, viewing my escape options. Left or right? Impulsively I chose to dart to the left and found myself running down a stretching corridor, my bare feet slapping on the cemented floor.

The chains were bundled in my arms, adding to my discomfort. Panic enclosed my throat as I heard the man's footfalls gaining in on mine, getting closer…

The impact slammed into me from behind, knocking me solidly to the floor and the heavy weight of the man settled on my back. His gasps were warm on my neck and his cold fingers folded around the tops of my arms. I thrashed in his hold, biting back the screams that threatened to tear from my throat. I did not need more of the men coming to inspect the source of the riot.

"Bitch," he snapped, bringing a hand up to rip at the roots of my hair. My neck strained as he arched it painfully into his shoulder, my short yelp echoed in the corridor. "You really thought you could escape?"

Was I delusional when I had thought I could escape? I had no sense of direction, especially in this unfamiliar region. There were possible threats lurking around each tum and apart from that, I did not know how far we were from my home. Abruptly my heart sank into the deepest pit of my stomach, the impulse to retch growing stronger by the second. I had foolishly hoped my status as a long distance runner at school would up my chances at escaping. Clearly I had been mistaken.

"You'll have to pay for this little episode, princess," the man, seemingly calmer, sneeringly taunted before ripping be to my feet by my tangled hair. Before the small patch of dread could develop, the searing anger wormed its way into my throat and my hands, ready claws, reached for his face. My lips peeled back from my teeth and a silent snarl lodged in my throat.

Scrapping back to the room proved to be a difficult task for both him and me, as I was resisting: slapping and clawing everything that I could reach. Eventually the man grunted and yanked me up and over his shoulder, where I continued to kick and punch. String upon string of curse words flooded from my lips. I ripped up his shirt and dug my nails into his flesh, leaving bloody tracks on the surface of his skin. Apart from the occasional hiss and wince, he continued impervious to any of my assaults.

We reached the open door to the room that had contained me, and my struggles grew desperate, more vigorous. Upon shutting the door behind him, he flung me to the floor in the center of the room. I tried springing to my feet, but he merely placed a foot on my stomach, preventing any movements and gradually adding more pressure. When the pressure morphed from bearable to agonizing I ceased my struggling, short puffs of breath were wringed from my lungs. I watched as a smirk stretched into a full blown grin and a tremor of unease travelled up my spine.

"I think it's time you learned some manners. Don't you think, princess?"


	5. Chapter 4: Torture

**Well, I am proud to present yet another edited chapter. I'm aware that they are slow in progress, but bear with me please. As I said before, there will be new scenes and chapters which you will need to read to understand any future chapters that I write and publish.**

**Thank you for all the support you guys are offering. I honestly do enjoy it when you guys review and it most definitely motivates me to keep writing.**

**x Crushing Daisy x **

Chapter 4: Torture

For the millionth time I asked myself why I had awoken the night these men had taken me. Why hadn't I just stayed in bed? _Better me than someone else. _A shudder rippled up my spine at the thought of my mother or brother arriving, instead of me. I was almost positive my father would still have had the ability to handle them, because, unlike me, he would have come prepared. _Curiosity killed the cat_, a vicious voice hissed through my mind. But I wasn't dead. Yet. Instead I was placed on a metal chair, my hands and feet tied with rope to the legs and back of the stool, preventing me from moving much less escaping. I was gagged with what seemed like an old rotting sock which left my jaw stretched and throbbing. The bastard had gone out a while ago, claiming he had to go collect some items. I had not the foggiest idea what these "items" were, but judging by the way he had smirked at the prospect of it, settled a void hole in my stomach. He had left the door open, which at the time seemed like the most unpractical, idiotic thing he could do, but I quickly came to the conclusion that there was no way I was hopping my way out of here, tied to the chair, so the door might as well be open.

I heaved another sigh and the nauseating smell of the rag he'd roughly crammed into my mouth filled my nostrils and my features contorted. My stomach clenched again, waiting for the non- existing food to reach my mouth. The shuddering rumble of it exerted throughout my entire torso and I hunched my shoulders in attempt to lessen the ache.

All the while my mind toyed with the idea of what my family might be doing right about now. Does the rest of the family know? Did Ivan realize what was going on? How were my parents managing this? Have they filed a missing person's report? Of course they have, it has been more than twenty four hours. Hasn't it?

The unexpected pricking in my eyes warned me of the first sign of tears and along with the lump that knotted in my throat I was able to identify and stop it before it spilled. How humiliating wouldn't it have been if the man returned to find me helpless and crying? No, I had more pride than that. I should, would, be able to at least make his life miserable. What good did crying do anyway? It would make a fool out of me, nothing more. I inhaled a lung full of rag invested oxygen and lifted my chin from where it was resting on my chest.

If I was going down, I was damn well going down with my dignity still intact. I vowed to myself that I was going to see my family again, even if it was while taking my last breath in a hospital, I would _not_ die here. I needed a detailed plan, one that preferably didn't involve me getting raped or eventually killed. But every time I looked up there was the painful proof that so many other girls didn't succeed, didn't live. And wasn't that a confidence killer. After all, what would make me so special? These pigs hadn't thought to stop at any of these girls so why would they stop with me? I was sure that I still had plenty of fight in me, whether it was enough to survive or not, I didn't know. One thing I was sure of though was that I was going to make their lives a living, breathing hell.

Looking over to where the still unconscious Shyana was resting I noticed how horrible she looked. There were scratches and slashes etched into her skin and the dried blood had frozen in the form of long, streaming rivers. Since her beating earlier today, she still hadn't regained consciousness, at least to reassure me. I kept a close eye on her, just in case her condition worsened or she falls into a coma from blood loss.

The sound of swift footsteps filled the room, and my compassionate expression immediately congealed into the cold mask I was used to pulling off whenever one of the men was around. I straightened up in the chair, as much as the ropes would allow me to, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin.

The man entered my line of sight and I analyzed his appearance, trying to decipher his motivations. In one hand his fist was clenched around the whip I'd seen them using on Shyana earlier and in the other there was a large butchers knife gleaming in the light.

My heart clenched with panic and my stomach rolled as I tried not to throw up. The instinctive urge to squirm away from the offensive weapons arose, but I halted my movements, straining my muscles to stay in place. These men fed off fear and I wasn't about to give them anything to chew on.

Where had my earlier bravado disappeared to? I had thought I was ready for just about anything, that was including torture, but seeing it become a realization was another thing altogether. My teeth were chattering and I had to bite down hard on the rag to keep in the whimpers that threatened to escape. With my body stiff as a board and my eyes jumping from the knife to the whip I wasn't convincing anyone of how calm I wanted to be.

He laughed at my attempt while ripping the rag from my mouth, probably hear me beg and plead. I steeled my resolve and willed myself to be absolutely still as the man circled around my seated form. The taste of the rag lingered in my mouth, and I schooled my features to withhold the display of disgust.

"Scared yet?" he probed mockingly and I felt the cool, sharp surface of the knife caress my neck. Trying to swallow quietly I forced a blank expression. The knife bobbed at the moving of my larynx and my calm façade faltered before I regained my composure.

"No," I spoke calmly, my eyes following his every move, trying to calculate when he would strike. Self-preservation was pleading with me to co-operate, but my resolve refused. How else do I survive? Begging had done nothing for these girls from what I have witnessed these past few days, so why make the same mistake? It is only healthy, natural, human instincts to get feelings of panic and fear. However, how you react to this fear determined your fate.

The knife glided from my skin and in its absence the man's fingers were placed as he caressed the skin on my neck absentmindedly. When he lowered himself to his hunches, I stiffened my already rigid muscles. I tried to keep my stare cool and emotionless as I watched the spot behind his head with fierce intensity, but from the corner of my eye I saw a grin stretch across his face. I slammed my gaze squarely into his, trying to feign intimidation. He was analyzing my every movement, trying to catch a hint of emotion, something to latch on to. The knife lifted to his chin and he scratched the sharp tip over the stubble decorating his jaw, seemingly lost in thought.

"Let's see if we can change that," he smiled disdainfully. I never saw him move. Only after the stinging sensation erupted across my neck did I realize he had slashed my throat.

The sharp blade of the knife had cut cleanly into my throat, creating a deep gash, but not a lethal wound. My head bowed in pain and I clamped my teeth into my tongue to withhold the curses waiting to spew. When I finally drew my head back up, I caught him smiling with glee.

"Since this may take a while, I would like to get to know you. So tell me," he paused, I assumed to decide what to ask first. My hatred towards the man intensified up to the point where I felt a strange stirring in my gut; an almost bubbling energy waiting to be unleashed. All the while my gaze followed his now pacing form, spitting fire on his very existence. The warm trickle of blood from the newly afflicted wound in my neck traveled to my already blood stained shirt. A slow throbbing now accompanied the sting and I could only hope he didn't damage any main arteries.

He abruptly twisted on his heels and shot the first question in my direction. "What's your name?" he paced again waiting for me to answer. When I failed to respond, he paused to look at me impatiently. I pursed my lips and managed to look thoughtful and then baring my teeth in what I wanted to call a grin I answered him.

"My name is Mary," I proclaimed, my voice sweet and innocent, before sneering sarcastically. I thought I saw a flicker of surprise dance in those squinty brown irises, but it was gone before I could confirm it and in its place cold amusement took root. Did he not expect me to be uncooperative? Was that not how all the woman he had captured reacted? Underneath the display of amusement, I could detect a curdling anger inside the man. Something you would find when angering an abuser. A violent anger. I tucked the observation into the deepest folds of my conscience for later use

"Wrong answer, princess," he stated and the whip fell to the floor as he brought his empty hand hard across the right side of my face. The impact sent my head snapping to the side and I spit the blood gathering on the inside of my cheek onto his leather boots. An action he did not appreciate. This time I saw the knife gliding towards me, but that didn't change the fact that I couldn't move. The still raw wound on my cheek tore open with the caress of the knife, the healing tissue split and more blood joined my already soaked shirt.

I tried to be quiet, but a short yelp slipped out in surprise at the attack. If the wound kept reopening like this, it wasn't going to heal properly. The prospect of having a scar decorating the skin of my face for the rest of my life made anger claw at my throat. It boiled and throbbed in concert with my lacerations. Raw energy pulsed through my limbs, a tremor crept up my spine and a strange sensation swept over my mind. As soon as it appeared it vanished, as if the energy had been retracted. I sat brewing in the residual emotions, the irritation and sadness lingered as if hoping to console the pain.

The man observed me silently, while I tried to glare a crater in his face. It seems as though he was trying to decide what to do next, absentmindedly wiping my blood off onto his ruffled shirt. I allowed myself to indulge in my darker notions, visualizing all the injuries I could render onto _his_ tied up form. Sometimes my creativity astounded me, I thought dryly, as various images swarmed my thoughts. I wanted nothing more than to have a chance at him, to show him pain before I try to escape again.

My fingers were toying with the ends of the frayed rope when I noticed how lose they were tied. A few twists and I would be able to free my right hand. Hope surged abruptly, but I clamped it down, schooling my features so my excitement wouldn't show and perhaps give me away.

"It seems we're going to have to work on that temper of yours before the auction," he mused mostly to himself.

I ignored the crack at my temper, rather focusing my attention to the last word. Auction? What could he possibly be selling? Drugs? Weapons? Going by the large amount of woman he kept imprisoned, my conclusion was to assume that perhaps he was selling slaves. As much as I tried to guard my expression, he must have seen the curiosity burning in my gaze.

"You seem curious." He stated, clearly entertained by my stubborn nature. I narrowed my gaze into slits of menace, hoping to intimidate him. Clearly it wasn't working, taking into consideration that he only chuckled and prowled around the open space in front of my chair. Swinging the knife casually in his one hand, he sighed melodramatically when he realized I wasn't going to respond to his statement.

"Where do I start?" he brashly continued when he noticed my silence. "You ever familiarize yourself with the existence of the supernatural, princess?" He paced, as if waiting for me to answer. At the mentioning of the supernatural, my mind supplied me with various images regarding the term. Psychics, vampires, werewolves, witches... Of all the things he had to mention, why bring up such a ridiculously unbefitting topic?

"Vampires, werewolves, pixies, shape shifters, witches…" he confirmed my thoughts and suspicions before continuing. "Now, I'm sure you are familiar with the fables and different media regarding these creatures, but what is your stance in opinion on the existence of these beings?" It seemed that this time he truly did want an answer, but I was still trying to comprehend his question. Was he genuinely expecting me to answer a question such as that? The very thought of the supernatural existing was outlandish, so of course my opinion on the reality of it was that I didn't believe it existed.

"Well?" he snapped irritably, instantly elevating the ready knife threateningly.

"No, I don't believe in the supernatural," I barked back, the familiar anger skulking closer. For what it was worth I answered honestly, hoping I would at least be supplied with an explanation.

"Presuming that they _did_ exist, wouldn't you expect them to have needs such as every other living being?" he asked inquiringly. Humoring me, most likely. The direction of topic he was venturing into made me doubt his mental health, but if he wanted to converse about something as ridiculously inappropriate such as this, I wasn't going to complain. More time for me to silently unfetter the ropes.

He was watching me expectantly, so I stiffly dipped my head as an indication that he could continue.

"Do you not agree that someone would have to supply and cater to those needs?" he continued his inquires, while I worked the knots with numbly excited fingers.

"Tada," he whispered in a sing-song voice, a maniacal smile adjourning his face as he pointed to himself. I wasn't going to lie, that scared the living shit out of me. I could deal with angry, violent and temperamental, but I normally shied away from insane. Crazy people were most definitely not my specialty.

The ropes slipped off my wrists, but I kept them clutched between my fingers so they would not tumble to the floor. My only other barrier would now be the ropes securely wrapped around my ankles and they would need some diligent attention as they were fastened relatively tightly.

"And so," he spoke in a sudden conclusion, "all these whores, including you, are going to be sold at tomorrow's auction for any and all intents and purposes," he paused only to burst into a fit of laughter. "You're…" another round of laughter besieged him, "You're going…going to be sold to a bunch of paranormal creatures-" More laughter. "So they can use you as their little sluts."

Rage slammed into my conscience at full force. It clouded my better judgment as I struggled to keep myself from launching at the man and strangling the life out of his smug, amused face. Human trafficking was one thing I never considered myself ever getting involved with and I grappled with the blunt truth of this admission. I could feel that familiar shiver travelling up my spine and tingling over my scalp, before it retreated as it did before. It reappeared and disappeared accordingly with my control as I sat for minutes, trying not to give myself away by jumping up and hacking the man's face off.

"Hmm, I do like it when you get angry," he murmured lowly, his lids drooping as his mood suddenly overturned. He gradually stalked closer, eyes scrutinizing and I stiffened in the chair, unsure of his motives.

His hand rose swiftly, expecting a reaction I'm sure, but upon receiving none other than a poisonous glare and a curled lip, he continued. A dirty finger reached out and traced down my neck, lower, lower…

"Don't touch me," I snapped, panic and anger interlacing my urgent bark. For a moment, his hand retracted in what I hoped was a retreat, but that was when he reached for the knife. I tried to convince myself that violence was better than his unwanted sexual harassments, but my neck wound was still throbbing as a reminder that the violence affected me quite overpoweringly.

The knife drew closer, inching towards my face, before he suddenly lowered it to my tied up legs. It glided over the rope, cutting through the tough fibers like it would through soft butter as the man worked on them from beside me. His position placed him out from under my kicking range, but he was obviously unaware of my untied hands. I waited impatiently for him completely free my legs before making my move.

The man expecting this purposely delayed cutting into the set of ropes around my left leg and abruptly drew to his full length from where he was crouched beside me. Then, folding his hand around the back of the chair, dragged my still tied up form to the nearest wall, pushing the back of it roughly against the concrete. My hands were flattened under the pressure and I panicked when he cut loose the remaining ropes of my bondage. This was all wrong! I couldn't move when he was applying all that pressure onto the chair, meshing my arms into the wall and rendering me helpless.

I ripped at my arms, trying to free them from their entrapment, but only managed to damage and rip at my skin. Without as much as a warning the man placed his open hands on my knees, tauntingly dragging them higher as I watched helplessly. My legs seemed to have forgotten their purpose for a few agonizing seconds before they kicked back to life. Panicked I tried to kick him, but with my legs trapped in an awkward position between his torso and the chair, I could only forcefully shuffle them around.

This wasn't happening, my mind whimpered at me. It wasn't, it continued denying. I was yanked up from my seated position, legs wobbling and head spinning before I was roughly shoved into the wall. His body pressed up against mine, preventing any means of escaping. My mind rushed with overlapping thoughts and I turned my head askew, hiding from his filthy, searching lips. He grabbed my jaw, crushing it between his large, firm fingers and turning my head towards him. When he tried moving closer, I thrashed wildly, trying to kick his pressuring form from my body.

"I forgot how much fun you new girls could be," he muttered, his voice trembling with excitement as he unrelentingly pressed into me. His one hand wandered from my neck, lingering over the curve of my breast before continuing a pathway down my stomach. My thrashing turned ferocious as the panic kicked in and blinded everything but my need for self-preservation.

His fingers edged in under the lip of my sleeping shorts and I completely lost my mind. I ripped my arms from its confinements, uncaring of the skin that tore off or the fact that I was giving myself away and instead clawed at his face. Caught off guard, the man did not react until my fist struck his left cheekbone before he finally sprung back from my trembling form. I used his lingering shock to spring myself from the wall and kick the sensitive area between his legs with the force of all my anger. His legs buckled, but he managed to stay standing, his face scrunched up in a pained grimace.

I didn't dare wait longer. Spinning on my heels, I dashed for the concrete door, praying it would be open. Mere inches from the false safety the door would have provided, I was tackled from behind. The man had recovered much quicker than I had expected he would and the pressure of my failure rivaled that of his weight on my back. I was jerked around, facing him as I panted with the effort of freeing myself.

I had no warning; no way of knowing. Only when the agonizing pain exploded from my side and I looked down to see the protruding hilt just under the right side of my ribcage, did I realize that he had stabbed me. I stilled and my breathing ceased as I struggled to wrap my mind around the pain. He grabbed at the hilt and my stomach clenched at the abrupt uproar of pain that flared. And then he twisted it.

The scream was ripped from the deepest confines of my heart and it scratched at my eardrums. I now understood the agonized screams that had reverberated in my ears earlier; I experienced them first hand. I could feel as well as hear the slow tearing of sinew as he rotated the knife before slowly, so slowly, sliding it back out. Angry, pained moisture pooled in my eyes, before gradually diminishing at my will.

"I never expected a fire cracker for my birthday," the man rasped in my ear, pressing a disturbing bulge up against my leg whilst I struggled with my breathing, bile pushing up my throat. What exactly my body wanted to bring up, I didn't know. Maybe it was excess sustenance from when I ate at home or maybe I was about to bring up my own organs. It certainly felt that way.

I turned my head to the side, nearly avoiding from choking on my own vomit as I brought up on the concrete floor. The interlaced blood convinced me that I might have some internal bleeding. My mind pitched in and out of consciousness as I fought for awareness. I couldn't pass out now. Not with this _thing_ on me.

"Why don't you rest for a while, hmm?" he inquired quietly, still taunting as he pinched my nose and placed a hand over my mouth. When I struggled to breathe, the pain in my side shot up like it was being set on fire. Seconds ticked by as I struggled for breath, trying to endure the pain in my side to stay conscious.

I knew I had lost when the edges of my vision started blurring and my body slackened. I unwillingly succumbed to the darkness. The man's laughter echoed in my nightmares.


	6. Chapter 5: Auction

**Hey lovers! Whew! This chapter was a stubborn one, I'll tell you that. I practically rewrote it three times! Anywhoo, I hope you enjoy it and this was the last chapter that needed major editing, so I'll be updating more regularly from now on.**

**Before you know it, we'll be back where we used to be! **

**If you guys are interested, you could send me pics of what you'd imagine the characters would look like. The one that I think resembles the character best will be posted on my profile, so see what you guys can do and PM me or leave the link in a review.**

**Thanks for everyone's support, I greatly appreciate it.**

**Xx Crushing Daisy xX**

Chapter 5: Auction

I was cold. Cold to the point where could no longer feel my limbs. Or maybe that was my body numbing out, I couldn't be sure anymore. The agonizing pain in my side had ripped me from my restless sleep, but I was nevertheless feeling tired and drained. Upon my unwanted awakening I had discovered my battered body tied to the exact same chair as before, only this time I was bound by chains secured with locks. My wound had been bound with a filthy piece of cloth that I wanted to rip from the sensitive, injured wound in my side. The action did not spark any gratitude, for I knew that it wasn't in my own interest that they had done it, but rather as an act of selfishness for their stupid auction. I was having trouble recalling the events that had occurred before I was rendered unconscious. The remembrance of the stabbing was ever present in my thought process, but the smaller things seemed to be evading my memory. My head sagged on my straining neck as I tried to keep it upright, but my muscles were weak and unnourished. How long have I been without water and food? Has it been three days? Maybe four? If my injuries didn't kill me, lack of nourishment was sure to do the job just as well.

Once I had awoken, the first thing on my mind was: what happened after I lost consciousness? I could remember the pressuring body that had pinned me down all too well. Considering that there were no signs of forced intercourse such as soreness or blood, I tried not to be too alarmed. It was still difficult to process my entire situation, since there were other things he could have done that would have left no evidence. Fear of this man would make me weak; an easy target, so I tried not to dwell on it too much.

I kept myself distracted simply by considering the auction that would be held today. I didn't have a whole lot of knowledge on how these things worked and that made me feel quite uninformed and vulnerable. I worked from what my basic logic told me. An auction was basically a public sale in which goods, in my case women, were sold to the highest bidder. Our bidders were these so called "supernatural beings": and I used this term loosely and with the most sincere form of sarcasm I could afford at the time being.

If I were ever to escape, there would not be much more of a perfect opportunity than this. In the event that I was actually sold, they would have to unbind me. I would be led from the building and that would serve to be my time of escape. I didn't know where I was on the map, but I would tackle that problem when it arose.

It wasn't a fool proof plan, but it was a basic outline. I couldn't afford to work with a detailed plan in any case, since I wasn't actually in control and anything could happen or obstruct my plan. I would have to ride this auction out and adjust my plan where there needed to be adjusting.

Hours passed with me attempting to keep my mind occupied. There wasn't much happening and definitely not a whole lot of preparations for the auction, so I had no indication of how close the event was. Shyana had groggily awoken, moaning to life from her frozen, unconscious state and I was surprised to find more than the necessary amount of relief flooding me. The other girls were either asleep or still insentient and I dared not look longer than needed upon their battered bodies. I desperately needed some motivation and courage to act out my plan and gazing onto their broken bodies was definitely not helping me.

Abruptly a squared piece of the concrete floor in the middle of the circular structure lifted and the dull thuds of feet ascending stairs echoed from the hole. The ventilation holes allowed me to hear the muffled sound of hushed voices and clothing rustling. The first to emerge was the man with the scar. Earlier I had overheard conversation between him and the fat man and he was referred to as Jason. It was such a painfully average name that it actually annoyed me. A man like him should have a name that gave away any and all of his vile intentions and crimes.

When he was positioned at the mouth of the hole, he waited patiently for the other people to emerge. An intense hatred throbbed through my veins, flooding my thought process and obscuring it with memories of what he did to me. The wound in my side pulsed as a reminder of his actions. It made me proud to see the cut that decorated his cheekbone along with some purpling skin on his face. I glared at him as though my very gaze could reduce him to dust.

There was utter silence as he waited by the entrance and I started to believe that there wasn't anyone else coming up. But then head slowly rose from the black hole and the lean form soon followed.

He surpassed even Jason in length, standing tall with strength and certitude. Clad in black dress pants and a dark dress shirt he seemed to be dressed rather formally for the occasion. His straw- colored hair was styled to perfection, framing the structured angles of his face and his washed out blue gaze was searching his immediate surroundings, seemingly tense. I watched the man with caution while simultaneously trying to keep my gaze on the entrance of the hole.

Jason was watching me; an eerie, knowing smile stretched his lips. I could feel my stomach acids pushing up my throat, threatening to spill. I tried distracting myself by watching the entrance for any other people to emerge, but his gaze was like a plague on my skin; shriveling it up and draining it of life.

I forced my eyes to the hole and watched as a petite Latino woman stepped from its confines. Another man followed, along with two more women. Soon the people were peeling from the hole like ants, filling up inner structure that all the rooms were surrounding. There seemed to be an equally divided number of both genders milling around while they observed the multiple girls in each room as some people would observe animals in a zoo. It sickened me.

I promptly noted how whenever they took the time to scrutinize my room they would seem confused, some even frustrated. Maybe it was because I was practically the only one not hanging from the roof like some sick sacrificial animal and was instead tied to a chair under a mass of chains.

I tried to somehow glare them from my sights, but I was tired and, as much as I despised admitting it, weak. My glowers seemed to fall flat and I posed as much a threat as a wounded housecat trapped in a corner; futile and not very intimidating. The man whom I had first seen emerging from the stairs fixated his gaze to my room. I watched his eyes narrow into slits of menace and the contours of his body stiffened.

I happily returned the favor, meeting his gaze square on. This man would not intimidate me, I had already decided. The man seemed perturbed by my direct confrontation, and took an almost threatening step in my direction. My gaze didn't budge. Maybe it was the fatigue or the pain or even the lack of nourishment, but I couldn't be less bothered by his little tirade of intimidation.

Jason took note of this and nervously approached the man.

"Please excuse the girl in room seven, Alek. The little wench has not been properly broken in," he sneered in my direction and I turned my heated gaze to his. Almost instantly I could feel my blood boiling with fury and my skin shivering with anticipation of bloodshed. My lip curled from my teeth in distaste as I measured up all the different angles his neck could be broken with.

Another wave of fatigue slammed into my mind and my fury faltered. Almost instinctively my arms weakly tugged at the chains and a soft groan croaked past my lips as the wound in my side flared to life. I had been enduring the constant throbbing until it became unobtrusive. The clinking of the chains did nothing but draw the unneeded attention of those peering at the other various rooms.

"Who is the girl?" The man named Alek barked at Jason, his gaze was never removed from my form.

"Don't have the name yet," Jason drawled casually, seemingly unfazed by the man's intolerant tone. He would have convinced me of his ease, if his large frame hadn't tensed up and gone rigid.

A small smirk of victory tugged at my lips. Trifling as it may have seemed, I felt proud of my small advantage. They might have stripped me of my dignity, but identity remained secret and that was as rewarding as anything. Alek on the other hand seemed to be enormously irked by Jason's ignorance. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he spoke from between clenched teeth:

"You may not realize this, what with your inadequate human senses," he sneered nastily at Jason, speaking as though he was addressing the gum at the bottom of his shoes, "but that 'mortal' simply reeks of power,"

I did not understand what this Alek was babbling about, so I decided to ignore his strange observations and comments. What was I supposed to make of his senseless remarks in any case? This was coming from a man who had convinced himself of things most people would find questionable. These were the inner thoughts of a mentally ill man. Although admittedly, the man's eyes lacked the wildly disturbed look most would find coupled with mentally ill patients. Instead his were steel cold, composed and rationally intelligent.

I soon noted how the group of people had been thinning out. People had either got what they wanted or had not been satisfied and had left with nothing. The rooms that were within my sight were now considerably more vacant. I wondered what would happen to those girls that were purchased. Some were already so close to death and others were languid enough to be considered dead. But what worried me most was the fact that they would most likely want to find replacements for the vacant rooms. It meant more girls were going to be ripped from their homes, much like I was. Although upon analyzing the night that they had taken me, I had come to the conclusion that their intents were obviously not to abduct me but rather to retrieve food, whether it was for them or for the girls I wouldn't know. I had been an easy score for them, I thought bitterly.

When I withdrew from my thoughts I noted that Alek stood unmoved from his previous spot, uninterruptedly watching me. The calculating edge in his gaze unnerved me. I wanted to scream at him; him and all the other people who had put me in this situation. I wanted to scratch that smug smirk off Jason's face. I wanted to rip these stupid chains off me. I wanted to be at home in my bed. I wanted but couldn't have.

The nostalgia hit home and I sagged in my chair. The chains suddenly felt like they weighed a ton and were trying to smother me. I half-heartedly glared at the few remaining people in the room, flinching when the agitated wound in side flared up, reminding me of its existence.

"I want the girl in room seven."

My neck snapped sharply back up at the sudden statement. Alek was still staring at me with that same unsettling gaze, a small smirk now adjourning his mouth. I saw the dark intents in the way his eyes glistened; the plans forming in his mind's eye.

I watched through narrowed eyes as Jason casually strode towards my room and punched a code into a device that seemed to be situated on the side of the wall. The giant glass wall strained and groaned as it lifted and Jason ducked in under it, approaching me with arrogance in his every stride.

"Guess I should've known you'd go 'round the first auction. Too bad we couldn't have more fun." He chuckled, stroking my cheek with one of his dirtied hands. I turned my head away, disgusted by his very presence.

As he went along undoing every lock and knot I did not fail to notice the last few strokes and gropes he managed to fit in. Another ripple travelled up my spine and my scalp prickled with abhorrence. He was crouched by my feet, undoing the last lock when a sudden red rage overcame my senses. My body moved almost as if by its own accord as I stood up and watched the now loosened chains roll off my skin and bundle on the floor.

Jason soon realized his mistake and in his hurry to stand up lost his balance and fell back on his hands. I delivered a swift kick in his side, sending him sprawled out on the concrete floor. My side wound screamed in protest and was swiftly ignored as I continued towards Jason, uncaring of the remaining people who were watching.

He clutched his side before turning his angered gaze in my direction. But I was already upon him, my knees crushing his chest and my hands grabbing his face, nails digging into the dirty skin of his jaw.

"Is this the fun you had in mind, Jason?" I sneered, enjoying the fleeting shock that covered his features at the mention of his name. I used the shock to my advantage, delivering a swift backhanded slap to the left side of his face. It made me sickeningly happy to see the red skin forming a bruise on his skin.

He started thrashing, clawing and kicking; I tried stilling him with a punch in the jaw. I couldn't stop after one. The punches rained down onto his face, neck and chest, bruises forming along his exposed skin. My adrenaline fueled my anger and I ceased my attack only when I finally realized he was unconscious. But I was still furious.

I rose from Jason's form and spun around to face my escape only to find that the entire place had been evacuated of all people. The back of my neck prickled, an uneasy feeling entering my stomach. Instinct warned me about the other presence in the room and I could only guess who that was.

"Well, _Alek_," I sneered nastily, "looks like it's just you and me." At first glance around the room, I couldn't catch a glimpse of anything or anyone and decided to stagger out to the center of the structure where I would have a better view of my surroundings.

In the back of my conscious mind a voice piped up, reminding me that I would need to do something about the other girls as well. I couldn't just leave them here to die once I've escaped. _If_ I escaped.

My snide challenge was met with utter silence. I scanned over every room, over every nook and crook, searching for signs of the lurking presence. Finally I spotted a dark lump disguised in the shadows of the corner of my room. Then I wished I hadn't seen him. I was injured, weak and a considerable amount smaller than the man that posed a threat. At eighteen I didn't really offer much bulk. In fact, the only thing I had to my advantage was my athletic training, which had faltered a bit after I had graduated. Either I would be walking away with more injuries that I had to begin with or I was not walking away at all. And sadly, tragically, the second option seemed more likely.

So how was I to approach this situation? The different thoughts and ideas ran through my mind, none fit enough to be used. Slowly my panic grew as my streaming thoughts were exhausted.

"The code, punch in the code," the dry, scratchy voice came from behind, causing me to jump half in their direction. I turned to find the bloodied Shyana meekly motioning with her chin to the device on the left side of the wall, where Jason had entered the code earlier to raise the glass wall. Her logic made sense, something I did not possess while under stress or panic. If I closed the door on time, both of the men would be trapped in the room, granting me more time to take care of the girls.

Driven with new urgency, I turned towards Shyana and franticly asked her what the code was. From the corner of my eye, I noted the shadow of the man creeping out from under the cover of the shadows, revealing Alek who was now smiling cynically. The terrifying image did nothing but increase my panic and impatience. I stepped up to the device and waited impatiently for Shyana to remember.

"Um, it's…it's…" she was struggling to remember. Alek looked calmly upon my frantic form, tauntingly taking slow steps towards the glass wall.

"Shyana…" I trailed of urgently. Alek was leisurely approaching, taking steps that seemed to echo around the structure.

"Uh...518…25," she yelled, finally remembering.

I turned my attention to the keypad and shakily typed in the code with trembling fingers. As if contemplating the numbers, the machine took a few seconds before confirming the code with a high pitched noise and then closing with agonizingly slow speed. It wasn't fast enough. When it was a little more than halfway, Alek reached under the lip of the wall and gripped to a halt. It groaned in protest before it seemingly failed and just halted.

My entire form froze and my brain seemed to lose its function for a few good seconds before jumping into action. My eyes scanned the area in search for any objects I could use as weapons. But there was nothing that could be use- My gaze skittered to a halt, spying the chains that were still abandoned at the feet of my chair. Glancing back at Alek, who was watching me with a seemingly entertained expression, I acted fast. Ducking under the door, past him, I jumped over to my weapon. While trying to find one of the shorter chains, I kept half my gaze on Alek, watching him chuckle in amusement.

I finally managed to loosen a meter long chain link and spun back to the wall. To my horror, I found that Alek had let go of the wall, and it was slowly making its descent towards the concrete floor. I dashed for the remaining gap in vain, but it had shrunk to a size impossibly too narrow for me to slip through.

Holding out the chain as the weapon I meant for it to be, I backed up towards the slowly awakening Jason, crouching by his form. Tearing my gaze from Alek for mere seconds, I frantically searched the groggy man's pockets for any other weapons. I was surprised when my fingers folded around a small, cool object and withdrawing it I stepped back up to face Alek.

Upon immediate inspection, I found that Alek had disappeared from his previous position and I scampered back from the rapidly waking Jason, simultaneously scanning my surroundings. A swift glance downward revealed to me that I was clutching a small pocketknife in my one hand, the chain still clutched in the other. I flipped open the pocketknife blade and swung it in a wide arch around me, searching for the man.

Jason slowly sat up, clutching his head and groaning loudly. When his narrowed gaze landed on my panicked form, he was quick to spring into action as he lunged at me.

"You little cunt, what did you do?!" I narrowly avoided being tackled, awkwardly diving from Jason's line of attack. My thoughts scattered for a plan, anything that would help me survive the vicious attack and intents of both men. I scanned the room for Alek while Jason made an effort to get his disorientated form off the floor.

"Looking for me?" the taunt brushed my ear with its cold breath. With a rattled shriek, I spun around to slice him with the blade, but instead I was met with the charging Jason. This time my reactions were not quick enough and the impact of his tackle sent me flying into the back wall, his chest narrowly missing the point of the blade.

Scrambling to get up from where I was situated next to Jason, I stumbled to the side wall, placing my back firmly against it. If I thought the wound in my side was aching before then it was in absolute agony now. It was visibly throbbing, dripping blood like it was a fashion and extremely sensitive to my probing touch. Cursing, I turned my energy back towards the problem at hand, wielding the knife and pointing it in the general direction of both men.

"Stay back," I spat tiredly.

Alek casually strolled up to my threatening stance, stopping a foot from the point of the blade. The action of stabbing someone didn't sit well with my stomach it seemed, and unsure, I lowered the blade an inch.

Alek noticed the movement and smirked smugly, lifting his arm, his intents unclear to me. Narrowing my gaze I moved fast, aiming to make a cut on his outstretched forearm to prove that I would not hesitate to use the knife on a more vital area. The knife seemed sharp and well-kept after, so I did not see how it wouldn't be able to cut through his shirt. The knife never reached its destination and was instead stopped before reaching its target. Confused I glanced down, only to find his bare hand gripping the blade of the knife, not one scratch serving as evidence of my attack.

Too shocked to react, he ripped the blade from my nimble fingers without any problems. Over his shoulder I noticed Jason had recovered once more and was watching me through narrow, furious eyes, but made no move towards me. Alek took advantage off my distraction, placing one hand on my chest and pushing me back until I hit the wall with a dull thump. Stepping closer to me, he used one hand to brush the damp hair from my neck then leaning in, he skimmed his nose lightly along the column of my throat, inhaling. Was he…smelling me?

The final clouds of shock evaporated and I reacted. Shoving the big man took more effort and energy than I expected. The man did not budge and instead pressed relentlessly up against the contours of my body. Another shove to his chest and shoulders did nothing. Alek instead placed his cold lips on the skin of my neck, shocking the breath from my lungs when his tongue flicked out and traveled up to my parted lips. Images of Jason moving over my body, his dirty hands roaming over my skin, flashed through my mind. I had never felt more helpless, trapped between the man and the wall.

Then I felt something.

The energy started as a small tease beginning at the base of my spine. But then it travelled up the curve of my back, moving like jolts of electricity. I was familiar with this notion as it had happened multiple times before this, but the energy didn't stop as it normally would. Instead it continued a path along my neck before it prickled across my scalp. I was lost to the feeling of power that accompanied the energy, the strength and rejuvenation of my muscles. All the cramps, cuts and wounds were forgotten, as if never having been there. A poker hot burn built up from behind my eyes, subsuming my ability to see, thus rendering me blind. I went to grab at my eyes, but the burn was gone as quickly as it had come and I was granted my sight once more.

I noticed Alek had carefully relocated himself and was now standing a few feet from me. His expression was one of awe, accomplishment and disbelief. My eyes seemed sharper and were noticing things I had failed to see before. Miniscule details that were so easily overlooked were now clear and I greedily absorbed my surroundings with this new discovery. Then they skimmed over the glass wall and I froze.

All the strange changes I had felt were portrayed clear as daylight (credit belonging to my new and improved sight, of course) in the reflection of the wall. Front and foremost was my hair and eyes. My normally long curled hair was now snow white instead of the dull brown I was accustomed to. The tresses fell long and untangled to little below my waist in the most spectacular of ashen white curls.

Then my eyes. They were a shocking shade of blue; light, cold blue. There was no trace of the green orbs just as there did not seem to be a remnant of mercy. My eyes never betrayed my thoughts and I was glad as I had only one thing on my mind: _to kill. _Kill every single source of my discomfort.

Strangely, I did not panic at the unexplained, bizarre change. I felt home.

A quick gasp ripped my attention from the reflection and pulled it towards the seemingly frightened Jason. When my icy gaze slammed into his, an immediate fear was released, seeping from his pores and rolling out in waves that my heightened senses instantly picked up. I watched as one of his hands shot out stabilize himself against the will when his knees buckled. Curiously I tilted my head slightly, inspecting this strange reaction he was producing in reaction to my change. I stepped closer, a cold amusement taking root when I watched him scramble away.

"Stand still," the emotionless sweep of my voice fell foreign to my improved hearing. Hearing the hypnotic quality thrumming in the chords of my voice, Jason froze on the spot. Walking was no longer painful I noted as I approached the trembling Jason. My hand slithered up, wrapping around his throat. Too caught up in my stare, he did not notice my hold until I lifted him from the ground and slammed him into the wall with enough force to make figments of it crumble and dust. I found that I enjoyed using my new found strength very much. Snapping from the trance, he struggled, trashing and scratching, all to no avail.

"Listen." I snapped, my voice thick with authority and underlined with power. His struggles halted and his fearful gaze met mine once more. "You will release each and every one of these girls you have trapped in rooms and return them to their families from which you removed them," my hand constricted around his throat. Chocking made the man turn a very interesting shade of blue, I noted before continuing, "If you fail to do so by tomorrow, I will come back and rip you apart painfully, limb from limb, burn the pieces to _ash_ and then feed them to your comrades before they will meet the same fate."

Not waiting for a reaction, I threw him across the room, watching his body hit the far wall before landing in a heap near Alek's feet. Ignoring Alek for the moment, I stalked up to the groaning man on the floor. Placing my bare foot on his heaving chest, I increased the pressure, watching his panic and pain. I waited until the sickening crack of a few rib bones registered in my ears before removing the pressure. A final kick delivered to his now broken rib cage served as enough to make him loose consciousness again and I turned my attention to Alek.

He had been watching with speculation, seemingly considering something. Untrusting I turned my body towards him, preparing my muscles for battle and trying to anticipate his attacks. Instinct warned me of the untapped strength this man had not yet resorted. Cautious and with my senses sharpened, we commenced circling each other, waiting for the other to attack.

Growing impatient with the continuing circling, I struck with precision, grabbing him by the shirt, throwing him over my shoulder and slamming him to the floor by his neck. He retaliated by gripping my arms and rolling us over, adjusting my form so he would be able to straddle the small of my back, pinning my arms beneath his legs. The anger fueled the energy traveling throughout my veins and in a sudden burst I felt it projecting from my body and knocking Alek off my back with its force. Shaking my head, I sprung up, feeling a giddy excitement at using this strange energy.

Alek made a show of getting back to his feet, brushing some invisible specks of dust from his shirt before pouncing again. I prepared for his attack as best as I could, but he had disappeared from my sight before I could make my assault. Spinning around I found him at my back, smirking. I swiped at his smug face, but my clawed fingers were only met with air. Then a sharp blow erupted from my side, right over my stab wound and I was once more reminded of the throbbing gash. Turning, I was only met with the sharp pain in my side. Another blow delivered to my stomach sent me doubling over, clutching my sensitive stomach and gasping for breath. Blows were raining down on me, weakening my form. I sagged to the floor, clutching my upper torso protectively, noting that all the pain had seemingly returned tenfold.

In the reflection of the glass wall I had returned to my normal self; brown haired, green eyed and beaten.

"So much work needed," Alek seemed to sigh, crouching by my curled up form. Rolling over, I attempted to get back to my feet, away from him, but instead staggered and crashed to the floor. Alek heaved yet another exaggerated sigh before sweeping down and clutching my forearm tightly.

I was suddenly hit with nausea and a throbbing headache that screeched revenge throughout my skull. Then, starting from the area where Alek was clutching an intense burst of pain erupted, rapidly spreading to cover the rest of my body before it was followed by a complete lack of sensation.

A sense of being airborne rippled my senses and before I could scream in protest I was slammed into the floor of a completely different room.

Scrambling to get to my feet, I stumbled up and slammed into the nearest wall, using it as leverage to keep myself upright. The large room that I found myself suddenly located in was decorated to fit a romantic French theme. The walls were painted a delicate cream, some of them decorated with seemingly ancient canvases. My gaze skimmed over the large bed that served as the centerpiece of the room, covered with expensive sheets and quilts and sprinkled with various pillows and throws. A large mahogany desk sat little to the left of the bed.

Leading out to a balcony were cream colored French doors, somewhat covered by blood red curtains. My gaze narrowed in on what lay beyond the balcony and I found myself skimming the ridge of a forest that started just past the stretch of a grass green lawn.

"What the fuck did you just do to me?" I spat defensively at the man, my voice hoarse from the strain it took. I still felt nauseated.

"I teleported," was his simple reply.

I was too tired to try and wrap my mind around his explanation. The empty eyes of the fair haired woman I had miraculously morphed into, was haunting me. It seemed as though teleportation was an almost logical explanation when comparing the events of this day.

Cringing at the sudden migraine that pounded mercilessly through my skull, I turned to the man and contemplated my next move. He spoke before I could.

"I will go attain a medical kit for the attendance of your injuries. Feel free to nap on the floor, I don't want you getting blood all over the bed sheets," he sneered mockingly. He spun around, moving in the direction of the thick wooden door I hadn't noticed before. Then hesitating, he turned back and stalked up to me.

"I wouldn't recommend trying anything imprudent as I _will_ know about it." His hand threaded through the tangled curls of my hair, yanking it to expose my neck. Then tracing his lips along my neck he lightly nibbled the skin just below my ear. "You'll be a good girl, won't you?"

Anger pulsed and I ripped his hand from my hair, pushing myself away from his intimidating form.

"Don't. Touch. Me." I grinded the words from between my clenched teeth, forming each word with a growl.

"I think you'll find I usually do as I please," he threw the words over his shoulder and smirking, he strolled from the room, slamming the door behind him and turning the lock from the outside.

I stared at the door in absolute disbelief. I was locked in a room. Again.


	7. Chapter 6: Stranger

**'Sup cyber friends! I decided to edit another chapter before I retreated to the misery that is schoolwork. **

**Anyway, hope you guys are still reading. Like I said before, only a few more chapters to edit before I can upload everything at once and we can finally continue with the story.**

**Thanks for the support guys, I love it!**

**Xx Crushing Daisy xX**

Chapter 6: Stranger

Minutes later I stood in a room filled with destruction. In my haste to find something big enough to smash the French door locks with, I had toppled over and destroyed practically every piece of furniture in the room. My frustration leaked through my actions and the adrenaline was readily pumping through my system. The adrenaline was the only thing keeping me on my feet, the only thing that made me strong enough to lift the heavy wooden desk drawer before chunking it at the lock.

Outside I couldn't see much of the forest since the sky had darkened and a modest amount of moonlight bathed the outside world. The vast lawn stretched to the line of trees, green and dense, that led off to only who knows where.

Turning my attention back to the door I noticed that my throw had loosened the lock, but not broken it. Picking up another strewn desk drawer, I hauled it at the fragile doors. Most of the glass panes had shattered and I used the pillows on the bed to create a path to the now completely demolished lock. The wind whipped the door open and slammed it into the outside wall.

As I stepped outside onto the balcony I became abruptly aware of how high up the room was. I was probably on the third floor of this mansion. The distance was too great to jump and not break or shatter something, most likely my ankles. And right now I very much needed my ankles.

Leaping onto the pillows, I made my way back to the bed, ripping the duvets and remaining pillows from the surface. I then peeled the soft sheets from the bed, eyeing them with uncertainty, before tying the ends together with a ridiculous amount of knots. With my arms filled with sheets I made my way back outside where I was hit with the fresh, cool air.

I inspected the railing, satisfied that it looked sturdy enough to hold my flailing weight. Again I tied the one end of the sheet to the railing, tugging and testing my weight out on it. It held strong and tight.

Once my feet hit the ground I was going to have to get into the forest as fast as possible. I noted that the lawn was very open, too much visibility for my liking. I could very easily be spotted.

I took a final deep breath before I swung my leg over the railing, the other leg soon following. With my toes remaining on the ledge I clung to the sheet, gathering up the courage to go down. I was vigorously hoping my arms and legs would hold out and not give in halfway through my journey to the ground. Slowly, I leaned backwards, holding my breath before I slipped one foot from the ledge, letting it dangle I midair. My breathing sped up when I slipped my other foot down, instantly feeling the strain my arms were placed under. Groaning inaudibly, I used my arms and legs to move at a painfully slow pace down the sheets.

Reaching the second story, I risked an upwards glance into the rooms and abruptly froze.

Alek was leaning up against the frame of the doorway, watching me clamper down with amused eyes. My iron grip faltered and I lost my hold on the sheets. The ground was vast amount closer, but still too far for a pain free landing. My flailing form found solid ground, my shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. The first thing that registered upon impact was popping sound my shoulder produced. I sucked in a quick, sharp breath as the tears welled up in my eyes.

I struggled to get up, avoiding any movements that would disturb my pounding shoulder. Stumbling into a run, I winced as every step jostled my shoulder. The lawn seemed to stretch on forever as I headed towards the tree line. My bare feet hit the prickling grass in a rhythmic sprint. I didn't dare glance back in fear of breaking my rhythm or that I would freeze up again.

The trees rose up, ancient guards of the woods that seemed to whisper with the howling wind. I dodged into the woods, instantly feeling like less of a target while the trees were covering me. I permitted myself one last glance backwards and instantly regretted it.

Alek was halfway across the lawn and was making no effort to move in after me. I didn't have the time to worry about how he had gotten there so quickly. I turned my attention back to sprinting through the forest, cradling my arm in hopes of reducing the pain lancing through the entire limb. It made it a considerable amount harder to run, but the thought of Alek chasing inches behind me kept my limbs fueled.

I had been sprinting for roughly about twenty minutes when my burning muscles couldn't take much more, so I opted for a steady jogging pace. There were no remarkable changes in my surroundings and everywhere I looked I was met with the same sight and environment. I had no doubt in my mind that I was terribly lost, but I kept telling myself that if I ran in the same direction I was bound to end up somewhere. Hopefully some sort of civilization.

Another grueling hour, give or take, of jogging later I felt dead on my feet. If I were to stop now I was sure to collapse and fall asleep. Or slip into a coma.

The sudden sound of streaming water caught my attention. It sounded so close that I couldn't explain to myself how I had not heard it earlier. My mind was promptly flung into frenzy. All I was able to think about was the water; cool and trickling down my dry, parched throat. Uncaring of my protesting limbs, I broke into a mad sprint, moving in the general direction from which I heard the streaming water gushing.

When I finally broke through the line of trees I was panting for a sip of water. The trees dried up into a clearing, where in all its godliness laid a small river, streaming with fresh, clean water. I stumbled up to the riverbed, where I promptly fell to knees and without a second thought plunged my entire face into the cool water. Practically inhaling the water, I did not come up for air until my stomach felt stretched to its limit. Never in my life had I been more grateful for something as simple as water.

Next to the clean, bubbling stream, I felt filthy. The dirt was caked to my skin, spattered with streams of blood from my wounds and my clothes were stiff with sweat. I decided to slip into the stream for a quick wash up, slowly treading to the deeper waters of the small river. I winced as the agonizing ache in my shoulder made it known again. From the oddly positioned bone stretching the skin of my shoulder, I could tell it was dislocated. Simply looking at it made me want to either pass out cold or throw up. Trembling, I bent my elbow at a thirty degree angle before slowly rotating my shoulder outwards. The shoulder spontaneously relocated with a painful pop and my agonized shriek was cut short when I muffled it with my sleeve.

I spent the next few minutes trying to get enough oxygen into my burning lungs, fighting around the throbbing shoulder. Eventually I had calmed enough to slowly start removing the dirty clothing so I would be able to rinse them. Removing my shirt proved to be very difficult with my injured shoulder and stab wound, but once removed and washed, I laid it out on the riverbank to dry.

Remaining in my underwear, I finally turned my attention to the injury in my side, still covered with the dirty cloth Jason had provided. The dirty piece of clothing was oozing with blood from where it had reopened while I was making my escape. My trembling fingers worked furiously on the tight knot while I tried scanning the clearing. If I took up too much time, Alek would catch up and find me in an extremely vulnerable position.

The knot loosened and the cloth slipped off and into the stream.

_Shit_. For moments the word echoed around in my mind as I gazed at the now exposed injury. The blood was smeared and crusted all around the infected area, but purple bruising was shining out from under the red fluids. The edges of the cut were swollen and red with yellow infection oozing from the gaping hole. I didn't need a doctor to inform me that this wound was not healing. I was afraid to clean it, to touch it, but I knew I had to at least try and make an effort to disinfect it. The damp t-shirt served well enough to dab away the blood and remove the oozing yellow discharge.

Throughout the entire cleaning process I clamped my lips together to keep the whimpers from sounding and when the wound was not looking as scary as it did before, I yanked my shirt over my torso. The red welts around my wrists from where the cuffs had dug into the flesh was brought to my attention. It looked bad, but at least I knew those were in the process of healing.

I then moved to my tangled hair and dirty face. Taking another quick survey of my immediate surroundings, I decided it was safe enough to take a moment to wash up. Lowering myself to the deeper waters, I dunked my head under the rippling surface of the water. The feeling of cool water brushing through my hair, untangling it and washing out the dirt and grime, made me feel more human and less barbaric.

When I resurfaced my hands started scrubbing over my skin of their own accord, while I listened intently to the sound of the woods. Normally, nothing would have made me feel more gratified than when I was outdoors. The soft sound of trees brushing up against each other, the bubbling stream and the crickets would never have ceased to relax me. But tonight there was just too much noise and I was starting to feel paranoid. What if I failed to hear Alek's approaching footsteps? It would be so easy for him to drown me in this small river. And in such secluded woods, I doubt anyone would find me soon.

With these thoughts still fresh in my mind, I was anxious to get away as soon as possible again. Reluctantly I made my way out of the stream again and on to the river bank on the opposite side. Fully dressed I tore a fresh strip of cloth from my t-shirt to bandage my side injury with. My sense of direction was as muffled as ever, but I managed to remember the direction I had been heading in before I came across the stream. I hesitated, turning back towards the stream. When would I come across water again? With nothing else to fill my stomach up with, I decided to opt for one last drink.

The cool water trickled down my throat and even though my stomach felt like it was about to combust I drank greedily. I knew the discomfort that came paired with running on a full stomach, but it was well worth it.

I set off in a steady jog, leaving the clearing behind and entering the dense forest trees once again. The vivid moon light broke through the trees, illuminating enough for me to run without squinting. A fierce wind had built up and was breaking through the defense of the tree tops, creeping over my wet skin, chilling me through to my bones. Hopefully my clothes would dry swiftly with the wind. Another ten minutes more or less after I had started jogging again, I began to feel unsteady. I stumbled in mid stride before regaining my rhythm. Now was not the time to weaken when I had lost so much distance with my little bathing period.

Seemingly uncaring, a dizzy wave hit me full force and my vision clouded with black spots. The lack of food combined with my hard working body was making me nauseous. I hadn't gotten in any nutrients since the night I had been kidnapped and it was clearly wreaking havoc onto my exhausted body.

Somehow I tripped over my own feet and landed on my hands and knees. Another black cloud dotted over my vision and left me completely blind. Almost expecting it, the first wave of nausea hit me and I threw up, my stomach heaving, but only coming up with water. This was bad. The only thing I had to give my body was water and right now my system was losing all those valuable fluids.

Panic set in as my vision remained clouded over, much like being completely blind. My fingers numbly roved over the forest floor, brushing leaves and dirt aside. I crawled carefully and slowly, trying to find a tree I could brace myself against. For a fleeting moment the black spots faded, allowing me to glimpse at the large Redwood tree that rose from the soil, right in front of me. I reached for it, dragging myself from the floor just in time for my vision to cloud over and the nausea strike again.

Doubling over, I dry heaved until I was left breathless, my panting gasps echoing around the eerily quiet forest. A groan croaked past my cracked lips when I felt the first signs of a pounding migraine starting up in my skull.

The sudden sound of crunching leaves in the distance brought my head snapping up, much to the displeasure of my throbbing headache. Being mostly blinded wasn't really helping and almost instinctively I froze on the spot, holding my breath. A part of me wished I would seemingly blend in with the rest of the forest, but the odds of the person not seeing me were mostly against me. I was almost one hundred percent sure that it was Alek who had finally found me. I knew I shouldn't have taken the unnecessary time to wash up, I scolded myself.

I waited for my vision to clear up before I eagerly scanned the forest surroundings, hoping to find the source of the noise. My gaze found the suspect, positioned around fifty meters from where I was standing.

Through my blurry vision, I could only imagine it to be Alek. The panic set in and the compelling urge to run and seek a hiding place nearly drove me from my spot. But it would have been of no use. He was clearly staring right at me. The trees shook with the howling wind, allowing slits of the illuminative moonlight to break over the intimidating form

I hesitated, squinting in the direction of the man. The light caressed his short, ink black hair, traveling over his bare torso with the soft, delicate touch of a lover. The dark denims that covered his long, lean legs and portrayed his bare feet, did not remind me of the Alek I had been introduced to. Peering at his face I could identify the harsh slashes of his grim expression.

This man was most definitely not Alek.


	8. Chapter 7: Revealed

**Alrighty guys, it seems that you guys are pretty annoyed with me judging from some of the PM's I received. I know it's been almost a year since my last update, but life happened. I might possibly be ready to start up writing again, though, so hear me out.**

**Thanks to the few supporting PM's I got, I have decided that I will continue again; even if this only means to put up edited chapters. **

**But I want to ask you guys a favor: I am busy with another story that I will be posting on fictionpress. If I continue placing updates on here, will you guys please support me in my quest to write another genre on there? **

**Thanks guys (: **

Chapter 7: Revealed

Instinctively, I stumbled back. He was staring at my fumbling form through slits of menace and I did not bother to hide my distrusting stare. The urge to run to the man in a blind panic and beg for help popped up, but I controlled it. After all, what good could a half-naked man in the middle of the woods at this hour be up to?

Clearly I was not one to speak considering I was half naked and dripping wet in the same part of the forest he was in at the same hour. But from my point of view, I had a pretty good damn reason.

Glancing over to where the man was still positioned, still as a statue, I studied him. The man was certainly gifted in the height department, seeming almost six feet five inches tall from where I was standing. He was packing some bulk, but deemed to be more on the lean side, making him appear both agile and dangerous. The smooth skin of his torso lit up with the moonlight, making him an easy target to spot. Considering all of this, I realized how slim my chances were of physically taking on a man as big as himself and coming out alive. I did the only other thing I seemed to have mastered in the last couple of hours and ran.

Pushing my body from the trunk of the tree and sprinting off into the opposite direction of the man seemed to have been a foolish idea. The abrupt movement shocked my senses and the black spots prickled over my vision, making me stumble and crash into every tree in my path. Panic made me desperate and I continued despite being half blinded. The very idea of the man chasing inches behind my back fueled me to continue, but I had to slow down considerably if I wanted to avoid running head first into a tree. Being unconscious around a possible rapist/serial killer didn't seem like the best way to go, I sneered sarcastically.

The wind ripped through my tangled mass of hair as I blindly stumbled around the looming shadows of trees. My limbs were burning with fatigue, the bundles of muscle trembling against the heavy strain I placed on it. I couldn't hear the crunching of leaves or the snapping crack of twigs as evidence of the man following me. For a few moments I entertained the idea that the man had perhaps not pursued me as I originally thought.

A sudden snap echoed from my left, much too close for my comfort and I froze. Being blinded and dizzy did nothing to ease my frantic mind. The sudden quiet of the surrounding area made me strain for even the slightest idea of where the attack would be coming from.

_Crack. _This time the sound resounded from my right. My body slipped into a sudden crouch, tensing for the impact of the man's unpredictable attack. Thoughts were zooming in my mind, trying to work out some sort of tactic to replace my clear disadvantage in the heights department.

Slowly, agonizingly so, my vision started to clear around the edges; a reward for my unmoving limbs. The dark spots dissolved to reveal my vision to me once again, but I was greeted with nothing but the sight of trees and apprehensive shadows.

My head whipped into all directions, but the man revealed no hint of his location, until the superficial rustling of leaves above my head registered. Too loud to be the winds doing, I regarded the sound with suspicion. Trembling, my limbs were slow to back up and away from the tree, not daring to look up until I was a safe distance from the looming Redwood. I could hear the branch groaning under his weight and knew he would not be able to hold his position up there for much longer. I didn't have time to consider how he had gotten up there and I definitely did not want to know.

After backing up a considerable amount, I turned my face towards the upper branches of the tree. Sure enough, there on the bottom branch of the bulking Redwood loomed the shadow of a crouched figure. With his face veiled in shadows, I had no way of knowing what his intentions were. The lean figure unexpectedly grew and unfolded from its compressed position. I watched the muscles bend and flex as he jumped the considerable height to the forest floor. My breathing hitched as I prepared or the crunching break of bones as the man would meet his fate. But the only sound I registered was the dull thud of his feet hitting the ground, uninjured. My eyes grew to the size of saucers, trying to swallow around the lump that formed in my throat as my heartbeat sped up, powered by fear for the man. Of their own accord, my legs slowly backed me away from the man.

He countered every step I took with one of his own, but I did not stop. Abruptly a growl traveled from the man's chest up his throat until the sound spilled from between his clenched teeth. A warning. The gravelly noise reverberated up my spine, chilling me to the point where goose bumps broke out across my skin and my limbs ceased all movement.

Up close I could study the man more diligently, but his eyes drew all my focus. They were the deepest shade of blue I had ever encountered, meant to entrap and distract. I didn't allow myself to lose focus and narrowed my eyes at the intimidating figure.

When one of the man's hands swiftly rose, I reacted instinctively and slapped his reaching hand away. My palm throbbed, aching as if I had smacked it onto a stone or wall. Puzzled, I glowered down at his hand, studying the large palm from which five solid fingers stretched. My gaze traveled up his bare arm, silently marveling at the unyielding strength that was reflected throughout the muscles that folded across the limb. I swallowed around my nerves, trying not picture those hands on either side of my face, twisting until the snapping crunch of my trachea echoed. They certainly looked capable of ending a life easily enough.

My head snapped up to the man's impassive face, watching as one ink black brow rose. It seemed as though he was rebuking me, expecting me to know better as he attempted to reach for me again. In panic, I shoved his hand away a second time; the image of him snapping my neck not quite diminished. Some part of me was annoyed by his condescending attitude. If he tried to touch me again, I was going to bite his hand off, I snarled inwardly.

But it seemed that his patience, what he had of it anyway, had worn thin. He pounced before I could react; pressing into me and shoving my back against the nearest tree. My still raw wrists were gathered and pinned above my head. I hissed as the rough bark of the tree grated the sensitive welts around my wrists. Too scared of what damage might be inflicted if I were to carelessly rip my hands from his grip, I rather focused on the damage my legs could inflict upon _him_. He had tangled and interweaved our legs, but I knew I could loosen them with a few squirms.

I tried to aim for what would be considered a vital organ to most men, but instead his height brought me up short and my thrust settled on the inside of his thigh. The action did not fade him in the least and, with the exception of him loosening one of his hands to travel down the curve of my side, all of his weight pressed me further into the rough surface of the tree. His wandering hand found its target, hovering threateningly over the gash in my side. Trying to be inconspicuous about it, I tested his single grip on my wrists by adjusting them but found them incapable of even the slightest movement. Knowing I had no power in this position I tried to brace myself for another round of painful torture. Without my permission the thought of the possibility of rape and murder made their appearances and conquered over my remaining logic thoughts.

I couldn't afford to think like this. I needed to survive.

Resolving to my only remaining defense I gathered a lung full of air and pushed it out of my chest in a high pitched scream for help. The man did not scramble in wild panic to cover my mouth, only seemed slightly aggravated at the sudden outburst. My heart dropped into my shoes. If he wasn't at all bothered by my cries for help it could only mean that he wasn't concerned about anyone of particular interest hearing it. No one was listening to my pleas. At this sudden revelation my scream morphed into moan of pain before I quieted. The feeling of hopelessness had never been within my frame of reference, for I had always been ready with solutions to fix obstacles that had hindered my path. As the feeling ripped through my trapped body I could feel the familiar ripples at the base of my spine, but unlike the incident at the auction my body did not change into that of the strange woman. I was left with the forlorn feelings of hopelessness and despair.

The man had taken no interest in my tirade, but had instead resolved to frowning as though deep in thought. When noticing my sudden hush he focused his undivided attention to my neck. Then in one sudden movement he lowered his head to the column of my throat, his nose brushing up against my wildly flailing pulse. Not daring to move an inch with someone's teeth so dangerously poised at my sensitive flesh, I decided to take the time to calm my thoughts and devise a plan. In this position I was in the possession of very little to no power at all, which meant my survival depended on getting this man off me. There were certainly enough rocks, large and small, scattered on the forestry floor, ready to be used to bash someone's skull in. All I needed to do was get my hands on one.

Suddenly, with a very frustrated puff of air, he man removed himself from the column of my throat to eerily speculate me with a narrowed glare. He seemed to be searching for the answer to a question I had no clue of. Relaxing my body, I tried to lull him into the false sense of ease, hoping he would release his iron grip on my wrists. But with no luck. He did not prove easy to distract and in fact let out a low growl. With his entire body molded to mine, I could feel the vibrations traveling up my spine making my skin break out in cold sweat. I felt vulnerable again, as though I was somehow trapped in the glass room with Jason once more.

"Please let me go." My voice sounded small, fragile even and I barely finished my sentence when the man cut me off with another menacing growl. I tried not to focus on how he was able to produce such frightening noises for they reminded me too much of a pack of wolves scrapping over a few pieces of meat. When my plea for freedom did nothing to move the man I finally resolved to a more aggressive angle.

"Get fuck off me," I tried to be firm, but my voice wavered near the end. While thrashing against his hold, I could feel the welts around my wrists ripping and tearing. It was painful, but my need for survival overrode the pain. I was harrowingly aware of the man's finger hovering over the open flesh of my injury, threatening me into a submissive silence.

He must have tired of my constant thrashing because in the next instant a blindingly sharp pain blasted from my side. With a sharp shriek I realized he had decided upon forcing me into submission by means of torture. His finger pressed harder into the open flesh of my wound, twisting it around and tearing apart the healing injury.

"What are you doing here?" the man's low growl snapped me to attention and I sobbed in relief when he finally removed his finger. The threat of penetrating my open side never left; his finger hovering over it. I hurried to answer his question.

"I was trying to get back home," my voice cracked over the lancing pain in my side.

The man considered my answer before once again deciding to inflict torture. My scream was cut off as the man abruptly removed himself from me and turned to confront some unknown source of disturbance. With nothing pinning me to the tree and my adrenaline spent, I sagged to the damp forestry floor. I was aware of some sort of conversation taking place and forced my eyelids to peel open; unaware that I had even closed them.

My view was blocked, but my hearing was perfectly fine. I froze at the sound of the familiar timbre.

Alek.

Using my last feeble amount of strength, I pushed myself up and quietly tried to crawl away. I knew running was futile, it would only drain me of strength I desperately needed, but finding a weapon was possible.

I scanned my immediate surroundings, spotting a rather large, rough textured rock and went for it.

"…decided we need some fresh blood. Found her at the auction; she's not entirely human." Their conversation penetrated my deep concentration and I strained my ears to catch more of what they were speaking of while crawling over towards my intended weapon.

"I don't need to drink from filthy humans, much less unidentifiable supernatural." The other man seemed extremely pissed off but there was a somehow comfortable air about them. They definitely knew each other well enough.

"She's not for feeding purposes," Alek spat the words. "I'm keeping her to see what the hell it is that's making her, a _human_, morph into something only legends know of."

The other man was quiet.

I suddenly heard Alek heave a sigh of annoyance and had the dreadful feeling that it was aimed at me. Quickening my pace I managed to wrap my fingers around the cold stone before Alek dragged me closer, using my ankle as a handle.

With a lurch I twisted my torso and brought the heavy weight of the rock across his cheekbone. The force of my blow was weak, but ample enough to cause considerable damage. The flesh burst open and blood leaked from the wound.

His grip on my foot remained firm. I readily swung my arm back for another assault, but the rock was ripped from my hand in a sudden gust of wind. The other man had taken it from me.

"You know what. Fuck that. I might just rip into her throat after all." The blood had dribbled down onto his shirt, staining the white material.

"She would have changed in the presence of danger," the other man spoke up again.

"Already did," he grunted, picking my thrashing body from the ground. "At the auction. My guess is she's at the start of her transition, too weak to change at will."

"Fine. We'll take her back home and figure it out there." was the other man's gruff reply.

What the hell was going on? I didn't know how to get myself out of this situation anymore. I've tried almost everything.

The arms around my body tightened and I gave a half-hearted kick to try and squirm myself from out of his grip. My entire being was burning; every muscle and bone protested against the slightest of movements. _I just want to sleep._

"She getting tired, just fucking put her out before she gives herself a brain aneurism," the other man spat.

With most of my focus on the man speaking, I failed to see Alek's hand reaching around my head until I felt him push down on a particular spot on my neck.

Blissfully, I fell unconscious.


	9. Chapter 9: Rude Awakening

**Hey guys, I'll be making a lot of changes to the original plot, so there will probably be either a few new scenes or a new chapter here and there. Enjoy :)**

* * *

Chapter 8: Dreams

_Red painted my hands Glancing up I was confronted by the sight of a mangled, limp body hanging from the blade of a ceiling fan. My brother's room would always be familiar to me and so I recognized the patterned sheets on the bed, the toys packed on the shelf of a cupboard and the big window portraying our back yard. The rope was thick and coarsely textured as it wrapped around the neck of the small body like a constricting snake. I watched as it swayed with momentum. My heart pattered with dread as the rotating body revealed the face of my little brother._

_His dead, lifeless eyes were glaring, the betrayal in them winked at me. The vibrant green that had always been so full of excitement and innocence were pale and flat in their death. Blood smeared almost every inch of his skin, but I could not find the source of it. With a slack jaw, his mouth stretched open from his final screams that still seemed to echo against the blank walls of his room. _

_Shock paralyzed me and I yearned to stretch my arm and touch the small form to see if this nightmare was real. My arm wouldn't move at my command and as I struggled to gain control over my seemingly uncooperative limbs I was forced to stare at the sight before me. I couldn't look away. I could not undo the image that would be forever seared into the flesh of my mind. Some part of my inner being collapsed onto itself and the pain radiated out to fill every crevice and nook._

_But as I gazed into the reflective surface of his pale eyes, I noticed that I wasn't myself. The same woman that had appeared from somewhere inside of myself at the auction was glaringly visible in his eyes. I ripped my gaze away and with much effort I forced my head to turn in the direction of the window. It seemed too easy, like she was allowing me this and by doing so I was able to see the full transformation of my body. I was dressed in ancient war attire that consisted of long leather lappets forming a skirt or apron of sort, a steel corset over a tunic, segmented arm protectors and leather wrapped to form shoes that stretched up to my knees. Around my torso a leather belt was strapped and housed a variety of daggers. In a hilt, strapped to my hip, a deadly looking sword was sheathed. _

_Somehow I was feeling pain, but by gazing at her face, it hinted at none of these tormented feelings. We were separate people, but she managed to control my body. Walking around the small body, she studied it from all angles. _

_My lips parted without my consent and the words tumbled out. Words that weren't mine; these were her words._

"_I'm sorry, dear brother. But my place had always been as the conqueror of the war," she did not seem sorry. There was in fact no hint as to how she was feeling; her tone flat and lifeless as her eyes, "The ancients were cruel to place us against each other," she continued walking around the body._

_My mind absorbed the words, turning them over as though that would somehow clarify what she was talking about. _

"_Your potential as death warrior, as the leader of the coven, would have been immense." The words continued to pour from my lips, my voice ringing terms that I did not comprehend, "Your age puts you at a great disadvantage. One that I am afraid I must take advantage of." She paused to caress the hilt of the sword and my heart stopped as a sudden thought made itself known._

_Did she slaughter my parents as well? Would I find them covered in blood, lifeless as I found Ivan?_

"_I waited eighteen years for this body and mind to mature, and your time still waits," she continued. "I am regretful that we will need to face each other in war, but our people need someone that may lead them."_

_My mind scrambled as I felt her reach for the sword. It gleamed under the dull moonlight and the ancient gold carvings on the hilt seemed to come alive, twirling and writhing in anticipation._

_With a sudden arch she swung the sword and pierced it through the chest of little Ivan. I stared in shock as a glow emerged from deep inside his chest before exploding outwards as his remains evaporated. The rope swung ominously, the weight of the body no longer strained it._

_My heart screamed for my brother, but the room remained quiet, before she too disappeared from the reflection in the window._

With a gasp my body shot up from where it was placed in a laying position. My muscles felt stiff as though I had been sleeping for an eternity and had never stirred to assume a more comfortable position. Adrenaline streamed through my veins, throwing my body in a panic that had no threat to fear.

My body had been washed and I had been clothed in grey sweatpants and a shirt. The room that surrounded me was glaringly white and I was placed on a small bed pushed into the corner.

Cautiously I twisted my torso and placed my feet on the ground. A tugging sensation drew my eyes to the crook of my elbow where a needle was buried snugly in my flesh. The tube ran up and led to a bag with clear fluids. Great, I was hooked to an IV.

Ripping then needle from my arm, I flinched when my mind conjured images from my dream. They felt so vivid; so terrifyingly real. I shuddered at the though of my own body betraying me in such a way.

But it had just been a dream and I was nowhere near my brother to inflict pain. I was…

Where was I?

My eyes scanned the room again and I found a camera trained on me. I struggled to remember where I was and how I ended up with an IV hooked to my arm.

Alek, the man who brought me home from the auction. I had freed myself and fled to the woods where I had been stalked by another man. Had they dragged me to their mansion after rendering me unconscious?

Getting up proved to be difficult for my legs refused to hold my weight and shook with the effort. There was a massive mirror in the one wall, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it was a one way window. I slid my hands along the wall to try and find some sort of trap door that would lead me from this room, but found nothing of this sort.

How long had I been unconscious? A few hours? A day? Judging by stiffness in my joints and muscles, it must have been at least twelve to fourteen hours.

My wounds, I suddenly recalled and timidly dragged my shirt up to where the stab wound would be. It was bandaged, and still hurting, but at least it had been cleaned and bound. There were stitches tugging under the bandage. What happened to the internal bleeding? Or had I missed all the vital organs? My shoulder was heavily bruised and aching. Over all the other wounds and scratches seemed minor and I paid them no heed. The reflection, however spoke of some damage that had clearly been wrought upon my body during the last few days. I was sickly pale and seemed to have lost quite a few kilograms.

I wanted to take a hot shower. No, I wanted to sleep. But despite the tempting comfort that cot displayed, I kept pacing around the room, trying to work out some sort of plan.

Were they watching me through the window? I didn't even want to know. All information I had at this stage was that I was in an unfamiliar house with two men that seem to want to use me as some sick experiment.

Unexpectedly a high pitch keening sound filled the room. My hands snapped up to protect my ears from the noise, but it did not seem to help. Alarmed, I snapped my head around, trying to identify where the noise was originating from. I spotted a small speaker or intercom device attached to the corner of the room, about three meters above my head. My knees were locked in panic as the sound droned on and I realized my hands weren't blocking it in the least.

Then it picked up a few decibels and I screamed. It felt like my head was going to spontaneously combust. I threw my body towards the cot in an attempt to cover my head with the pillow, but then the sound heightened again and forced me to my knees. I was on the verge of throwing up, but my stomach had nothing but hunger cramps.

A familiar energy drew its finger up my spine and I shivered.

'No," I moaned, barely audible over the frightening keening that continued blaring unfalteringly around the room. I didn't want her anywhere near me or in me, but I've felt this sensation at the auction. I knew what was happening. But what if she somehow didn't retreat like she did at the auction and then went after my family?

My hands threaded through my hair as a painful tugging started inside my body. I yearned to keep myself humane; normal. I could feel her stretching, coaxing to emerge and she was full of the promise of erasing my discomfort. She could make it stop.

Flicks of white colored my hair as she slowly pressed up from inside me, but I still resisted. I threw my body against one of the walls in an attempt to force her back down. It was futile. I could feel my body slipping over the precipice of control.

In an act of pure frustration I screamed at the top of my lungs, willing her to go away. That was all distraction she needed to take over. The familiar prickle across the surface of my scalp and the burning sensation that caused my eyes to tear signaled my loss to the woman. A pleasurable ripple of power tore up my back and sank into me. The feeling of utter control and calm encompassed my being. I didn't feel out of control and experimentally fisted my hands, lifting and moving them while simultaneously walking around the room. It seemed that I had not lost my ability to command my body.

The noise persisted and I glided over to the small speaker nestled in the corner of the room. Jumping up to two meters in the air didn't seem to a problem for this body. My arm swung out, hands clawed, to rip the maddening device from its perch and the keening cut off abruptly. It was fascinating; this body was so much more capable than my human body. It possessed so much power and provided an easy solution to problems that I knew to be physically challenging in my normal state.

This was dangerous. I had barely even been altered into this state two times and I was already power hungry. No one should harbor whatever thing was inside me.

How the hell do I get it to go away now? Then again, this ability could be extremely useful when I plan to escape again. Maybe I shouldn't wish her away just yet.

My scheming was interrupted by the low groaning of a wall being lowered into a slit in the floor. Seriously? Was this a new trend now; walls serving as openings into rooms? My sharp gaze narrowed as the lowering wall revealed the faces of my kidnappers.

They were both waiting expectantly, their faces impassive, but their bodies were ready to block any move I would try to make. I decided to analyze the whole of my surroundings before springing into some form of action. Behind them there was a small space occupied with some high tech computing systems built into the walls. It seemed frighteningly malicious; like something villains would use to activate a series of death rays and torture systems. Beyond that, there were concrete steps leading up to some place on the next floor.

My eyes clashed back into the other two figures and an unnerving silence followed. No one spoke or attempted to explain what the hell was going on. I crouched and prepared to make a dash for the gap that separated their bodies to flee up the stairs.

"Before we continue this cat-and-mouse issue again, can you give us a moment to clarify what we have purchased you for?" Alek spoke dryly and crossed his arms over his chest.

I couldn't help but let a small growl slip at the mention of my_ purchasing_. I didn't even pause to assess how that sound had somehow emanated from me. The other man rolled his eyes at my reaction.

"Hmm, I'll begin by introducing myself as Alek. This is Ruthan." He gestured in the direction where the other man was glowering.

I made no sound, but eyed the exit hungrily. I could care less what their names were. At this moment I just knew I had to start the exhausting process of attempting escape again. Hopefully this time I would fare better than I did in my previous endeavors.

"Do you have even the slightest idea of the gift you've been given?" Alek inquired, cocking his head curiously. "It's been quite a while since the last Death Warrior was a human."

What the fuck was he going on about? I didn't need to hear this. They were trying to distract me, I was sure of it. Something is going to jump me the moment I cave in to my curiosity. I snapped my head around, trying to see if I could somehow unravel their plan. They couldn't possibly just want to talk. When you kidnap someone, it is most certainly not because you were in search of a conversation. What I do remember is that they seemed to be some form of supernatural and I couldn't deny it any longer. Here I was: living proof that the supernatural are very much existent. Did that mean that they wanted to use me in order to attain blood?

I glanced down at my body and became painfully aware of the fact that the woman had abandoned me yet again. Great timing, I sneered mentally.

"Allory, are you listening?" Alek asked.

My head snapped up at the sound of my name and I felt panic push up into my throat, strangling me.

"How do you know my name?" I choked out. My voice was hoarse from disuse.

A heavy, impatient sigh echoed around the room. Ruthan's. I sneered in his direction, the action only registering once I turned back to Alek. The quiet of the room was disrupted by the growling moan my stomach produced. My cheeks would have flooded with heat if I wasn't already too malnourished to summon enough blood to grace my face.

"How rude of me." Alek spoke mockingly. "I'm sure you would like something to eat before we continue with this conversation." He lifted one brow questioningly, but I only glared.

"How do you know my name?" I repeated through clenched teeth. The thought of food and water had me panting like a dog, but I honestly needed to know how he had gathered my personal information. If he managed to obtain my name from somewhere, then surely he was capable of gaining other information as well. Besides, I wasn't eating anything they gave me.

"Your family have of course listed you as a missing person at the police station and it's quite easy for Ruthan to hack into their systems." He replied, glancing over to where the silent, brooding man was standing.

For a brief moment I wondered how my family must be feeling right now. They definitely could not possibly feel shittier than I did at the moment. How long has it been since I've gone missing? Four, maybe five, days? That sounded about right.

"We can attempt to explain all the questions you must have running through your mind at this moment, but you'll have to get some food in at one or other point." He spoke, tilting his head expectantly.

I slowly let all his words sink in. So far, the only thing I wanted more than to get home to my family was answers to my questions. But did I want those answers desperately enough to stay here for a while? I wanted to know their intentions first.

"What do you want with me?" I asked slowly, my gaze narrowing to slits as I studied their expressions for some hint as to the truth.

"This really is a rather lengthy conversation. So I would advise you to eat something before we start explaining it all to you." Without speaking any further, he turned and continued to ascend the stairs to the next level of this mansion.

Ruthan didn't follow him, but rather waited expectantly for me to follow after his retreating companion. No way. I was not walking around with this man behind me. I wasn't stupid. I crossed my arms in a show of defiance and Ruthan's eyes narrowed to slits.

"Come on you two. I'd prefer to finish this little conversation before dawn." Alek's voice already sounded far away. As much as I completely distrusted these men, I had to admit to myself that I was slightly more at ease in Alek's presence than in Ruthan's. Especially seeing as this man was particularly partial to torture.

Ruthan finally decided not to waste his time and spun around to move up the steps. With a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I hesitantly followed.


End file.
